


A Cabin in the Woods

by antspaul, EhtoZee, tangential



Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Post-Season/Series 03, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:40:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22335058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antspaul/pseuds/antspaul, https://archiveofourown.org/users/EhtoZee/pseuds/EhtoZee, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangential/pseuds/tangential
Summary: Jerry knows that Diana Barry is a liar. He can only hope to find some truth in her silences.
Relationships: Diana Barry & Anne Shirley, Diana Barry & Ruby Gillis, Diana Barry & Ruby Gillis & Anne Shirley, Diana Barry/Fred Wright, Diana Barry/Jerry Baynard, Jerry Baynard & Anne Shirley, Jerry Baynard & Lisette Baynard, Josie Pye & Anne Shirley, Josie Pye & Diana Barry, Mr. Baynard & Jerry Baynard
Comments: 37
Kudos: 137





	1. I have nothing to give but a full heart and these empty hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if moving on just means going around in circles?

Living at Green Gables isn’t much different from just working there – except that Jerry never seems to have time to go home. Well, he still tends to think of  _ home  _ as where his family lives, but technically, he constantly reminds himself, Green Gables is home now. But when he finally does get to go home, he has to tell himself that “ _tu ne rentres pas chez toi, Jerry; tu n'es qu'un visiteur._ " ( **You're just a visitor, Jerry.** ) The place where he once called “home” is now merely a Cabin in the Woods.

On one such occasion that he does get to visit the Cabin in the Woods (and happened to be mumbling his mantra), his older brother Remy overhears and gasps in astonishment, “ _Maman, Jerry pense qu'il est un visiteur! _ ”

Maman raises an eyebrow. 

“ _ Maman _ !” Jerry whines in a combination that was both plead of forgiveness and moan of annoyance. He shoots a glare at Remy, who makes a face in return. 

Remy is Jerry’s sworn enemy in that, being both born in the same year, they are practically twins. They are also vying for the “middle child” spot of 8–with Jerry being #5 and Remy being #4. Even their names are similar – Remy’s given name was Jérémie, a far more sophisticated version of Jerry’s own. Jerry is taller, though – a truth he was sure to use to his advantage every time the opportunity arose.

“ _ Bien _ ?” says Papa from across the room, for there was no such thing as privacy in the Baynard cabin. “ _ Es-tu pas un visiteur? _ ”

Jerry pauses, not sure how to explain his current attitude. 

_ “Jerry thinks he’s too good for us now?”  _ Jacques joins in as he entered the cabin.

Jacques is the worst sibling of all to begin an argument with: he always wins – simply because Jacques’s idea of winning extends beyond the normal limits of a conversation, a philosophy he had carried over to physical fights as he got older. 

Jerry raises his hands in exasperation, rising to his feet and swiftly heading for the door. “ _ It’s impossible to have a conversation in this cabin _ .”

“ _ You were staying for dinner _ !” His only older sister, Jenny, objects from behind the head of Isa’s hair that she was braiding. She is Jacques’s actual twin and the more sensible one. She too is only a visitor, having married Jean Cote less than a year ago. Unlike Jerry, she lives close enough to visit a few times a week, however. 

“ _ We never see you anymore _ ,” says Maman in objection to Jerry's departure.

“ _ You should stay _ ,” pleads little Isa, jumping up and down from Jenny’s lap.

Even Bon Bon the dog barks to join the outcry.

Not that Jerry needs much more encouragement, but once Io saddles up to him, his plans to flee has completely vanished. She hands him a brush and a smile, which hails forth a memory of when she had done comparable actions to Diana Barry a year ago.

Would everything continue to prompt of her? Will he ever be free of her memory?

“ _ Jerry, Jolie asks for you all the time _ ,” says Jenny.

Jerry blinks in confusion, wondering where he had lost the topic. “ _ Jolie _ ?”

“ _ Jean’s little sister,”  _ clarifies Jenny. _ “You met at the wedding. _ ”

Still, no recollection of a Jolie came forth. The fact that she is Jenny’s sister-in-law, however, makes Jerry picture Jenny’s husband Jean with longer hair. Jerry shakes his head slowly.

“ _ She is a wonderful, friendly girl _ ,” adds Maman.

Jerry cringes, remembering the last girl Maman has described using similar words. He says nothing but focuses on the task of brushing Io’s hair.

When he is done, he gathers the younger siblings in a corner for a review of some education he has doled upon them previously. "Io! Isa! Froi!"

Jerry's personal mission had been to give his siblings (and parents too had they insisted but they hadn't) the gift of reading. Unfortunately, being busy with their lives, Jacques and Jenny had graciously declined, Juneau never responded, and Remy had flatly protested. Also, with the misfortune of his schedule, Jerry found little time to dive into the course recurrently, which means months of little progress with his younger siblings. 

He would still persevere, though. Reading had opened up endless opportunities for him, including bringing him to his most ardent love, mathematics. He began managing the accounts at Green Gables months ago and, finding himself lacking, had also taken a teller job at the bank in Carmody under the tutelage of Mr. David Cousins, the bank manager himself. The job at the bank only requires two days a week, but the amount of knowledge he has gained is invaluable. He now has more visibility into just how much everything costs not only in dollars, but in relationship to how much the buyer has to spend. With hard work, he has recently been promoted to banker. 

"Io, could you  **write** the letters of the alphabet for us?" Jerry begins once he has gotten his younger siblings' attention. He insists on speaking English so that he could familiarize the children with the words. He hasn't officially began teaching them English, however. 

Io is quick to dot down all 26 letters on a piece of parchment Jerry had brought with him.

" _ Perfect _ !" Jerry commends Io with a pat on the back before turning to another sister. "Alright, Isa. Can you  **say** the letters of the alphabet?"

Isa stands to her feet and begins recitation. "A ... B … C … D ... E … F … G … H … I …  _ Shay _ \--"

" _ Not quite! _ " Jerry cuts in. To ensure that she understands the correction, he tells her in French. " _ In English, they say _ J."

"Shay?" flobs Isa.

"J for Jerry," he attempts again.

" _ Shay for Jerry _ ?" 

Jerry gives up on this one. Perhaps she will fare better once they begin with English lessons. "Let's continue."

Io, on the other hand, is not pleased. At 13, she is Jerry's most immediate younger sibling. " _ You're supposed to teach us to speak English first _ .  _ Don't you know how this works? _ "

He ignores her and focuses on Isa.

Isa is now distracted, though. " _ I bet Princess Diana would teach us English first _ ," she adds. 

" _ Isa _ !" Jerry admonishes. " _ Continue _ ."

"K … L ... N--"

"M! M  _ comes first _ ."

Isa nods. "M … O-"

"N! M,  _ then  _ N,  _ then _ O."

Isa nods again. "M … N … O … P …  _ Ku _ … Ar …"

Jerry laughs, but makes a motion for his sister to continue.

"Ess … Tee … Oo … Vee …  _ doble  _ Vee … Eh-"

"X!" corrects Jerry.

"X …  _ Vai _ … Zee."

" _ Well done _ !" Jerry cheers. " _ Froi,  _ could you  **pronounce** the letters of the alphabet?"

Froi the youngest leaps into action. "Ay … Bbah … Seeee … Deeee … Eee ... Fff … Gug--" For 'g', Froi reaches back in his throat and makes a loud guttural sound.

Jerry collasps into laughter along with most of the cabin's other inhabitants, but Froi does not waver. "Ha .. Eh … Jee … Ka … Llo … Mmm … Nnn … O! … P …  _ comme Papa! _ "

" _ Comme Papa _ ," Jerry agrees.

"Qu … Rrr … Sss … Ttt … Oo … V … Woo … Ex … Yee… Zee."

" _ That was awesome, Froi _ !" says Jerry.

“ _ Why can't Princess Diana teach us _ ? _ " _ Io tries to return to the offending topic.

“ _ The Barry girl _ ?” Quiet and reserved, Jerry’s older brother 20-year-old Juneau says very little, making it easy to lose track of him in a room full of 10 people. The first words he speaks, though, threaten turmoil in the cabin.

“ _ I've told you that she went away to college _ ,” Jerry gripes.

“ _ Can she teach me English when she returns _ ?” Io wonders.

“ _ And how to play the piano _ ?” Froi jumps in. 

" _ She is probably not going to return! _ " Jerry explains, struggling to keep a straight face as he clarifies. " _ After college, she'll get married and live with her husband. _ "

“ _ Jerry, why can't she just marry  _ **_you_ ** _ and live here _ !” Io insists.

To prove how the depths the conversation has fallen to, Papa has crossed the room to confront Jerry. “ _ Jerry, you don’t like Diana Barry, do you _ ?”

“ _ Of course not _ !” Jerry is quick to protest. He even feels confident enough to stare his father directly in the eyes. He hasn't spoken in Diana in nearly a year. “ _ Why would you … why would you even ask that _ ?”

“ _ Très bien!”  _ Papa lets out a sigh. _ “That family is so much trouble _ .”

Doesn’t Jerry know it in truth? “ _ Bien _ ,” he agrees.

“ _ You should meet Jolie, though _ ,” says Jenny, finding cause picking up her conversation. “ _ Again _ .” She leans in to whisper. “ _ You could come over for lunch on Monday. I’ll invite her _ .”

“ _ I have a lot of work to do … at Green Gables.”  _ Not that Jerry needed to clarify where he now lives and works. _ “I also go to town. _ ”

“ _ I’ll be … free _ ,” comes a voice across the room.

“ _ Rem _ !” Jenny rolls her eyes.

“ _ I remember Jolie _ !” Remy continues. “ _ She has really blue eyes _ .”

A brief hush falls over the cabin. Papa turns his attention to Remy. “ _ Remy, do you like Jolie _ ?”

“ _ Obviously _ ,” Jerry instigates with a laugh.

And thankfully the conversation moves away from Jerry’s love life.

Hours later, Jerry trudges home with a full belly and a joyous heart. He is humming his favorite song, which Papa had gifted on the accordion this evening, when he is interrupted by rapid chatter from the house. 

Anne! Jerry brightens. She is back home for the summer. He had almost forgotten. His steps quickens. Anne always had interesting tales to regale of college antics. And she was usually kind enough to conveniently "forget" Diana's participation to spare Jerry's heart, even though Jerry knows that most of Anne's adventures surely includes her best friend.

He is on the front stoop when the chatter morphs into clear words to ensure him that this is definitely not the case in this instance. "—and Diana walked away as fast as she could, maintaining all of her dignity in the face of a cruel situation!" Anne manages out in one breath before collapsing into laughter.

Laughter from Matthew and Marilla Cuthbert also fills the air. And then, a few seconds later, a softer voice joins them.

Jerry is shocked. And … scared. Diana was here? He hasn't had the opportunity to face her since she had unceremoniously dumped him in the woods almost a year ago. He isn't prepared. Not now. Not yet. 

He quickly changes directions and finds himself across the yard in the barn before he is actually considering where he is fleeing to. He climbs up to the loft, taking a deep breath when he arrives there to encourage his heart to slow down. " _ Don't do this, Jerry _ ," he tells himself. "You need to face her. You need to look … well." He adjusts his jacket and fixes his hat. " _ You can do this. _ " 

As far as encouragement goes, this isn't the best advice he could give himself. After all, facing Diana now in front of the Cuthberts will mean pretending that everything that had happened between them last year had not happened at all. And he would rather not. Quite the opposite - he needs to scream and shout and vent out all his thoughts on the entire procession.

He sinks to the floor. He knows he can't face Diana now. Thirteen months have passed, and he's still the coward she left in the woods, stunned into silence and tethering on the edge of tears. A deep breath later, he cries himself to sleep, a pleasure he hasn't allowed himself to indulge in a months with the reminder that Diana is only a few feet away.

No dreams comes to him that night.

He awakes to a rustle of hay. It is still dark. Believing the sound to be one of the animals, he tries to will himself back to sleep, but that’s when he sees her. The moon is exceptionally bright tonight, but the fact that Diana is bathed in white light, like an angel, is still not fair. 

He could remain silent and still, and quite frankly, she would never know that he is here. But something forces him to his feet. "Diana?" he calls. 

Startled, she jumps and glances his way in confusion. " _ J-Jerry _ ?"

_** No, don't focus on how she's one of the few English speakers who pronounces your name with care, you idiot! ** _ Jerry has to chastise himself as he alights the loft.

A moment later (and to be honest, a moment too late), he realizes that the illusion of white is particularly due to the event that she is clothed in only night clothes. He hurriedly turns his head, and his body, away.

Diana mistakes the act of modesty as a slight. "Wait, wait! I have been wanting to speak with you," she says quickly. "Anne says I have been much of a … dastard about owning up to my actions towards you. I unsparingly disregarded your feelings, which may have been more … heavier than mine."

He says nothing.

" _ Can you forgive me _ ?" she asks in French this time.

There are so many responses Jerry wants to voice. " _ Why are you here _ ?" he asks instead.

Diana launches an explanation, as if she had been waiting to vent. " _ I had quite an argument with my parents this afternoon, and honestly, I would rather not spend the evening in the same house with two people who have no care for my opinions _ ."

Jerry blinks in confusion. " _ No, I mean, why are you here? In the barn? _ "

" _Oh_!" She chuckles. " _Um, I could not sleep._ _And I did not want to keep Anne awake with my wandering thoughts. Why are you here_?"

_** I was trying to avoid you **_ , is so idle a consideration so Jerry says, " _ I sometimes fall asleep in the barn _ ," which was true enough.

"Can you face me? It will be better–"

He didn’t even allow her to finish the thought. “No.” To be honest, he is not sure what would come out of facing Diana–whether he could be strong enough to not do anything stupid, like burst into tears or wrap his arms around her.

"What was  _ l’argument  _ about?" He wonders out loud, distracting himself from his thoughts. " _ With your parents _ ?"

" _ The usual _ !” Diana laments. “I am not adhering to decorum expected of a lady of my lineage."

Jerry wasn't quite sure he fully understood, but he supplied, "Like being in a barn alone late at night with a boy."

She sounds startled to realization when she says, "Right." 

He takes a step towards the exit. "I'll leave."

There is a lot of shuffling as Diana crosses the barn, "No, I will leave. I am the intruder." She is right in front of him before he can propose another solution. 

Jerry quickly looks away again, but he doesn't have to see her to know she's still standing there. For a person who occupies so little space, Diana Barry has so much presence. 

There is a pregnant pause before she voices in a soft voice, "You can not even face me."

Jerry doesn't have to agree, but the silence is enough assertion.

Diana lets out a sniff as she hurries for the door.

He should have let her be, but for some reason he wanted to clear his chest. "Diana, I …"

She halts her exit to look back at him.

But he has lost his voice. "I–I …"  _** I love you. I hate you. I wish things between us had ended on different terms. I still think about you. I am slowly trying to forget you. I feel wronged. I understand. I don't understand. I think you made the right choice. I think you made the wrong choice. I will make you regret it. ** _

He is thinking everything all at once, but is incapable of saying so despite his best efforts.

" _ Jerry _ ." When had she gotten this physically close? She slowly reaches a hand out to cup his face.

"Diana." He leans into the comfort she offers, fully aware of the irony that she had been the reason for his troubles. " _ Please … just … _ "

She kisses him. Or maybe he kisses her. All Jerry remembers is everything being confusing and emotional and disorienting one moment and then her lips are on his and everything is  **right** with the world again.

Diana is on her tiptoes, her arms find themselves around his neck. Jerry still has to bend low to accommodate her, and his hands are on her waist.

Kisses come in short bursts, then slightly longer ones–as if they have very little time but can also occupy all of eternity.

Jerry squats lower, reaching just under her buttocks to pick her up, and she is quick to wrap her legs around his waist as he stands. 

Diana giggles softly, the sound is now above his head as he looks up at her. " _ What are you doing? _ " she whispers, gently bumping his nose with hers. 

" _ You're so small _ ," he argues. 

She makes a face. "What a mean thing to say!" she jokes. "I have not yet completed all my growth."

"You're seventeen! You're not getting any taller."

She bumps his nose again. "I demand an apology!" she says in mock outrage. 

Jerry takes a moment to inhale the familiarity of her scent, which almost takes his breath away. His voice is nearly lost when he asks, " _ How about a kiss instead? _ "

Diana sticks out her tongue. 

Jerry never knows why he does what he does around her, but he leans forward and ends up … sucking her tongue. 

Diana gasps.

He is ready to apologize for the affront. "I'm sorry … I didn't…"

She shuts him up by licking the  **inside** of his mouth.

When the both sets of eyes widen with realization, she is blinking furiously in bafflement. "L-let me down," she orders.

He does, scared that he might have terrified her.

Tucking her hair behind her ears, Diana doesn't meet his eyes. Without another word, she leaves the barn. 

_** What just happened? ** _ Jerry wants to know, but before his brain can answer the query properly, Diana reappears out of nowhere to leap into his arms again. He becomes aware just in time to catch her. 

There's kissing–lots of kissing–but there's also licking, and sucking, and  **tasting** , and a tiny bite. ("Diana!" " _ No, I regret nothing _ .") And there's heart pounding so loudly he couldn't even hear the animals, breathing so heavily he was sure he would run out of air, and then several days later, they slow to one, long kiss.

She presses her forehead to his as they both attempt to regain control of their hearts, and breaths, and sanity.

Jerry lowers them both to the floor, Diana is still pressed close.

She is the first to speak, and she barely manages a sigh. "That … was … the most exquisite feeling ever."

Jerry chuckles. He always has trouble finding the right words in English, and having Diana feel the same sentiment makes him feel a bit closer to her.

She sighs again. "I should return," she says, wasting time detaching and rising to her feet.

" _ Bien,”  _ he nods, standing up in solidarity. He doesn’t want to let her go, though. He slips all the fingers of one hand through all the fingers on one of hers.

Diana glances down to where they are conjoined. "Your hands are so hardened," she observes. 

He at once pulls away, but she holds on tightly. In contrast, her hands are delicate and dainty.

"It is not admonishment," she assures him, focusing her attention on their intertwined fingers. "They are so rough and callous, because you work so hard." She intentionally grabs his glance as she says the next words. "But you are the most gentlemanly person I know."

Jerry smiles, not sure how else to acknowledge the rousing compliment. He changes the subject instead. “We should thank Anne in the morning."

" _Jerry_ ,” Diana giggles. “ _ Anne cannot know that we … what we just did.  _ Nobody can know."

He nods. "Yes, obviously. But … we should let her know that we've resumed ... courting.” Or whatever it was that they were doing. “She will be  _ très heureuse_."

A look of panic overcomes Diana's face. " _ Jerry _ !"

Realization suddenly hits him; he drops her hand instantly. " _ Mon Dieu! You're never going to change, are you? _ "

" _ I am trying to protect you. Do you know what people are going to think when they find out we are together _ ?"

" _ So … will people will  _ **_never_ ** _ find out about us? _ "

" _ This is just …  _ an excursion until we get to our final destinations."

Jerry wishes he actually knew what the word 'excursion' means as he barks, "Excursion is cancelled."

" _ Jerry- _ " She slides closer.

He steps back. "You're being rude, Diana. And-and … and aggressive." Weeks later, Jerry would consider the line delivery one of his finest, but in the moment, as Diana’s eyes fills up with tears, he feels cruel for just breaking her heart.

She runs out of the barn, however, before he can take back the words. He wants to go after her, but his feet have a mind of their own as they trudge back up to the loft in defiance.

_** Better to end here and now** _ , he thinks as he mulls over the whole interaction. He is angry, worried, but most importantly, he is relieved. And when he gets to the part where her legs were wrapped around him, he is unsurprisingly horny. He leans back into the hay, slipping a hand into his trousers. He shall allow himself to indulge in fantasies of Diana Barry one final time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Does anyone want to be a beta reader?** Just want to make sure that my i's are dotted and my t's are crossed. Please let me know.
> 
> I didn’t quite catch any names for the Baynard children in dialogue, so I named them instead of searching the cast list.
> 
> Jerry thinks in French. 
> 
> Edith Plaf's "No, I regret nothing" ("Non, je ne regrette rien") is the French song playing in the background of the movie Inception. Yes, the "kick." You're welcome.
> 
> It's been years since I took French and Google Translate wasn't being cooperative, so now all French is just English in italics.
> 
> Chapter title (and henceforth) is from _Little Women_ by Louisa May Alcott.


	2. hearts, like flowers, cannot be rudely handled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diana makes some important choices and considerations, but none of them are apologies.

When she was younger and more naive, Diana believed that boys eventually grew into men. Now she is discovering that to be a great fallacy: boys in fact grew into bigger boys, with bigger bodies and more lustful needs. Half of her suitors at Queen's bring to mind Moody Spurgeon's grotesque attempts to win her affections while the other half reminisces of her father–and not in a good way. She thinks of a domineering, lumbering oaf of a man.

One such is a fellow by the name of Fred Wright. Fred is only persistent because he has had the pleasure of running into her father on one of his visits and, after an afternoon of schmoozing, had received encouragement.

"Mr. Wright sends flowers again," says Ruby Gillis, as she enters the breakfast parlour of their shared housing, carrying the articles of mention. 

"Oh my word," says Josie Pye, mock clutching her hand to her heart, "is it Monday?"

"They are so beautiful!" Tillie Boulter says, eyeing the flowers in awe. 

Ruby places the daisies on the table before Diana, but Diana is much more interested in the food before her. "I wish Moody had half a mind to send me flowers!" Ruby says wistfully. 

Everyone is well aware when Anne Shirley-Cuthbert walks into the room as she announces, "Diana despises daisies."

"Alliteration, avid Anne!" Diana claps along with the compliment.

"Are you not going to send a note of thanks to dear Mr. Wright?" Ruby asks.

"Why should I?" Diana counters. "When he haphazardly disregards my assertion and  **re** -assertion that I do in fact despise daisies? I owe that man no notice."

"Yes, Ruby," Josie says in solidarity, "he is quite idiotic."

"Even if he was not, Diana would be sure to find fault," Tillie says. "If a suitor is not idiotic, he is grotesque. If he is not grotesque, he is domineering."

Anne, who had been unusually quiet as she was busy solving her hunger, wraps her arms around her bosom friend. "Diana, you must never settle! You are way too beautiful, and intelligent, to deserve anything less than your absolute ideal type."

"Why, thank you, Anne!" Diana agrees.

"What is your ideal type?" Ruby petitions Diana.

Diana thinks only for a moment. "Oh he MUST be tall. I am quite short, you see, and I would not wish that misfortune upon my children."

Tillie shakes her head. "And he must be rich," she mocks. "I grew up with lots of amenities and I would not wish a misfortune of poorness upon my children."

The room fills up with laughter; even Diana can't help but find amusement.

Ruby chimes in, "And capable of sprouting soliloquy."

When the laughter has died down for a second, Josie says in utmost seriousness. "In any event, Mr. Wright feels  **dreadfully** wrong."

Diana reaches over to grasp Josie's hand in surprise. "Josie Pye is sprouting homonyms and puns."

"Living with three fiction writers will do that to you," says Tillie, the other person in the room who has no time for hollow pursuits of the imagination.

Josie nods in agreement. "Speaking of, has everyone completed the latest assignment for Prof. Hamilton's class?" The task is to write about something you didn't know would give you great pleasure.

Everyone groans. Everyone but one.

"Groaning is very unbecoming, ladies," says Anne before answering the posted question. "I have completed the assignment, Josie."

"And what did you write about?" asks Ruby.

"Meeting my parents." The room is silent as Anne elaborates. "I had been standing behind a closed door my entire life. With all these questions." Her eyes fill up with tears. "And Marilla and Matthew give me a key to unlock all these answers."

The rest of the room is tearing up by the end of her extended metaphor.

"Well, damn!" Josie says as she dabs away her tears with a napkin. "Who could write anything that could compare to  **that**?"

Diana is in agreement. "Yes, damn."

"Curses are–unbecoming," Ruby manages through her sobs.

"I have failed another assignment!" Tillie announces. 

"No, ladies, let us discuss," Diana raises to her feet before Josie and Ruby could chime in their discouragement as well. "What gives you pleasure now?"

"Jam!" Anne answers, pointing to the jar on the table.

"Chocolate," adds Ruby.

"Sleep," Josie answers.

"Kisses," supplies Tillie.

There is laughter all around.

"This," says Diana. "These moments. They're  **real**. Effortless. Freeing."

"Can I steal that?" Josie asks. "Growing up, my mother always taught me that women were competitors. I never thought I could be this fulfilled in the company of a gargle of ladies."

"How could it be theft when I am giving it to you, Josie?" Diana says.

They all laugh again, wrapping Josie in a big group hug.

"What about learning?" Tillie says, a pre-Science major. "I never knew I could find so much pleasure in learning the different chemicals that make up the world. Also, there is knowing that all my schooling provided a foundation for such knowledge."

"That is wonderful, Tillie," says Ruby after a moment of thought. "I shall still write my assignment on chocolate, however."

The ladies dissolve into laughter once more. 

Later, as they are all heading to their morning courses, Ruby, Anne and Diana part ways with Josie and Tillie as they were heading to major-specific locations of the Queen's campus. And then, with Ruby, when she remembers to rush back home for a book she has forgotten. 

When the two of them are finally alone, Diana takes a brief pleasure in the silence (for it was rare). A few moments later, she notices Anne is fidgeting about as if she is composing an interview in her head. Anne does this before launching into serious discussions. Diana knows not to hurry her, but she's worried this could be a long one and they don't have nearly enough time before their first course starts.

"Diana!" Anne begins in an unnaturally low voice, clutching her best friend's hand. "Diana, regarding the subject matter at breakfast, I know you say I must never mention a certain man of French origins, but I do believe you are being inconsiderate of one basic, but rather powerful, fact."

"Anne–!" Diana begins to protest. This subject has been evaded for many months.

But Anne would not allow it. "Jerry loves you," Anne says. "I mean, he **did** very much."

Diana refuses the sentiment. "No, he does not. Did not. It was a simple boyhood infatuation."

"–that stood unwavering for many years," Anne added. Diana pauses for a few seconds, chewing on her next words before she expels them. "Even if it was real, do you think William Barry would ever allow his previous daughter to be **hitched** to an Acadian?"

Almost instantly, Anne's eyes darken in sorry. "Oh, Diana…"

"Do not give me those pitying eyes, Anne!" warns Diana. "My lineage has provided many luxuries that I revel in. I cannot –no, I will not feel spiteful for this one discount." Anne's grip tightens slightly as she forces Diana to a halt. "How do you feel about Jerry?" She is straightforward. 

Anne's grip tightens slightly as she forces Diana to a halt. "How do you feel about Jerry?" she is straightforward in her question. 

"I told you," dismisses Diana with a wave of her hand. "It was a passing fancy. And it has ended."

Anne blinks quickly in disbelief, but she doesn't challenge Diana's declaration. "I only wish for your happiness."

"Then that is more than most," says Diana as she begins walking again. "If only I could marry **you** , Anne with an E."

"You will have to go dismantle a considerably long line of … Gilbert, Gilbert, oh and Gilbert first." Anne laughs as she catches up to Diana's pace. She sighs a bit as she thinks on her beau in Toronto. "Well, surely we can be in a polyamorous relationship."

"We already are." Diana kisses Anne's check. "I do love you so." She finds a window to change the subject. "We have much planning to do for our trip home for the summer." 

Summer vacation is a mere two weeks away; exams a week closer. Diana almost could not believe how fast the first year of college has flown by; she had avoided going home for the entirety of it. Her parents, William and Eliza Barry, are stifling and disagreeable. Even though her father has made considerations for her schooling at Queen's, Eliza has voiced her dissent on more than one occasions. William is somewhat encouraging, if only hopeful that Diana would encounter a suitor or (better yet) a husband now that her visibility is widened.

"Have you packed everything?" Diana asks, breaking herself out of reverie.

Anne nods. "Everything but the vast amount of courage and faith needed to swallow a meal in the face of your parents' starving disappointment."

Diana laughs at the truth of it.

But she is surely not laughing when she is confronted by the truth the very night she returns home.

As usual, a very small incident sets off a chain of events. After greeting her parents when she arrives home, she spends some time with Minnie May, doing her best to avoid a serious discussion with William and Eliza Barry. Serious discussions always lead to arguments nowadays. Diana has to face them though, when dinnertime arrives.

"Fred Wright is coming over for dinner on Monday," William Barry announces. 

**Already?** thinks Diana, but what she says instead is, "I thought he would be back in Charlottetown."

"I invited him over," says her father. "We should… clarify things soon."

Diana wants to roll her eyes and excuse herself from this conversation entirely. Obviously, her presence and opinions are not needed. "Clarify things of what nature?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

Eliza– **Mother** –giggles. "Oh Diana," she says in her condescending British accent. "Do not be silly. Your engagement, of course."

At first, Diana is stunned. Fred Wright has had one semi-conversation about  **baseball** , of all matters with her, and sent daisies for a couple of months. They were barely acquainted. Then she is furious. What could her parents have been thinking? 

"He is barely up to standards," her father is saying, "but he has a nearly completely English lineage. And his family has money in the locomotive business. He will have to do."

Diana leaps to her feet and tries to explain through her fury. "We are not  **nearly** –he does not–How could you? Without my consent? Did you give him reason to believe that I would accept–"

" **You** would accept?" Mother laughs again, this time it's one of her fake ones which are laden with disgust. "Your father and I have already decided–"

"I have at least three more years of school!" Diana interrupts.

"Diana, you were not thinking that you would actually **finish** now, did you?" Mother asks in confusion. She is always confused by Diana's thirst for knowledge. "You will be much too old to secure a good husband by then. No, we must do it now while you have your youth."

Diana closes her mouth to take a deep breath and her eyes to reassess the situation. Finally, after calming herself, she declares, " **obviously** , this is a conversation we cannot have."

"I am glad you see reason," Father says, returning to his soup. "I am always concerned with a woman's ability to reason. Indeed."

"Mary Joe! Mr. Phillips!" Diana calls out to the servants as she exits the dining room without dismissal. If her parents did not care about rudeness, then neither would she. "If you don't mind accompanying me, I'm leaving." She still has not unpacked; her bags are in perfect position. "My bags are in my room, Mr. Phillips, if you do not mind grabbing them."

Mr. Phillips nods his understanding and heads up to retrieve the suitcases.

"Where are you going so late?" Mother has wandered into the parlor.

"Outside!" Diana replies as Mary Joe hands over her coat. "Do not worry, Mother. I shall return tomorrow."

"You are not going anywhere," Father has stepped up behind Mother.

Again, an image of an oaf comes in mind. Diana has to do everything she can to not burst into laughter. This is a serious conversation after all.

"Father, I am heading over to Green Gables for I cannot  **think** in this house!" Diana adds a stomp for practicality. 

"It is late," Mother repeats. 

Diana ignores her as Mr. Phillips is now heading down and out the door to the carriage with her bags.

She takes a deep breath when she has mounted the carriage. How will she survive an entire summer with her parents? 

Mary Joe climbs aboard after her and Mr. Phillips begins the ride. No one really says anything until they arrive at a fork in the road. 

"Green Gables then, Miss Diana?" Mary Joe asks.

Diana considers her path. The road to the left would carry her to the cabin in the woods, where she had once found solace and freedom. However, she erased that as a choice when she spurned Jerry's affection most harshly by the bridge that leads down to the narrow path. She knows, however, that the Baynards would still offer the same amount of support she had received in the past, but she will feel rather inconsiderate taking advantage of it. Had Jerry told  **them** about their brief, amourous affair?

She shakes her head, and in that moment, shakes of the mere idea. No, she would go right–to Green Gables where the Cuthberts would all welcome her. Would Jerry be there also? Maybe. Did she want him to be there? Most certainly … not. 

The fact was either path would quite possibly lead to an encounter with him, who she had avoided for so long by the mere fact that she was away at Queen's. 

Perhaps it was time to face the music. She could not return home.

"We will head to Green Gables," she announces.

The Cuthberts welcome her without to many questions and she shares an enjoyable dinner with them, a stark contrast from that of the Barry household.

She does not run into Jerry. Which is (un)fortunate. Until later after everyone is asleep and she wanders into the barn, believing she was alone with her thoughts. 

"Diana?" The word breaks into her thoughts.

" _Jerry_?" Her heartbeat slows for a moment as she faces him. She stutters out an apology, not sure how long she would have control of her facilities. After all, no one would ever deny that Jerry Baynard is a handsome fellow. He has the softest brown eyes and the warmest smile–two things he refuses to allow her to bask in at the moment.

He does not face her, and of course, a smile is elusive. She had broken his heart–cruelly–mere months ago.

She is leaving the barn when he attempts a proper response. "Diana, I …" 

**Funny** , she thinks.  **This doesn't sound like a reproach or a rebuke.**

**Jerry** loves  **you** , Anne had said.  **Could it still be true? Why would he? Why should he?**

Diana kisses him. He kisses back. Ardently. Fervently. As if he was a starving man and there was much feeding to be had at her lips. As if … everything.

She wants to warn him–she wants to warn herself–that there is no end destination on the path that they're currently on. But she could hardly talk when Jerry's lips have covered hers, now could she?

**Jerry loves you** , Anne claimed. **How could that be true?**

When they stop for an extended breath, Diana idly plays with his hands, blushing at the thought that they had just lifted her off the ground. If they lived in a different time, they could hold hands forever.

All good must end. And when their time together delve into argument, Diana tears up when he spits her own words back. Anne has been right (not that she knew the exacting wording of what Diana had said to break Jerry's heart last year), but those words were unusually cruel.

Diana manages to abate her sobs by the time she returns to Anne's room, where her friend is thankfully still curled up in bed asleep. 

Sleep eludes Diana, however. She paces about the room as thoughts swirl about. She only stops when she remembers that this was the reason she had taken refuge in the barn–to allow Anne some space.

Diana sinks to the ground beside the bed. Why should anything be easy when–

She had not noticed it before but one of the legs of Anne's bed was propped up upon a book.  **How rude!** is Diana's first reaction.  **But also how unlike Anne**. Diana frowns. **Anne loves books. Which book could have offended Anne so that she would dole upon it such a harsh punishment?**

Curious, Diana attempts to view the title. But can't make out much in the darkness. She has to pry the book from under its perch. The bed wobbles a bit as Diana peers at the title.

_ Frankenstein's Monster_, it reads.

A sudden surge of happiness appears on Diana's chest. He had kept it.  **It is true,** the first quote Jerry had said from the book comes to her mind immediately, **we shall be monsters, cut off from all the world**.

"But on that account we shall be more attached to one another," she whispers to the darkness.

She almost tears up again, this time with tears of joy.  **Jerry** loves  **you,** Anne had admitted. Diana places the book back in its place as she processes the new information. Does she feel anything for him? Does she know how she felt about him?

Several days later, she has pondered and reevaluated her entire relationship with Jerry (from first meeting to latest encounter), but Diana is not quite sure she has reached a conclusion when Mary Joe bursts into the library at the Barry house to interrupt a quiet reading (and thinking) session with Minnie May.

"You have a visitor, Miss Diana," she announces. 

"A visitor?" asks Minnie May. Diana's younger sister is eleven years old now and already a great deal taller than Diana.

"A suitor," clarified Mary Joe.

Diana sighs. "Our parents are quite dreadful."

"You haven't even met him yet," Minnie May argues.

"Have  **not** ," Diana corrects automatically, but she rises to her feet.

The poor fellow would be best served as quickly as possible, so that he could get along with his day and she could get along with her thoughts.

And there he is, standing in her parlor. " _Jerry! _ " Why is she so happy to see him? There could be nothing but bad tidings in this situation.

**What has happened?** She wants to ask, but–

But he smiles as if naught was amiss. 

" _Jerry! Have you come to apologize?_ " she asks in French.

Jerry chuckles in amusement. " _When did I offend you_?" he asks casually, as if there is a joke between the two of them.

Diana is not clear on what is happening, but Jerry is laughing, so there must be good. She joins in the laughter. 

Someone makes the horrid noise of clearing one's throat. Diana never understood why people bothered to do that instead of a more polite approach of just saying, "I'm here."

And suddenly Diana notices her father is also in the room, along with … "Mr. Wright."

**Oh my word** , she thinks,  **is it Monday?**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really think the writers were setting Diana up to have romantic feelings for Anne. She was really callous in ending her relationship with Jerry, but more **overactive** when ending the one with Anne for parallel reasons. She also always plays the boy in their fantasies. However, I really liked Jerry as a character, and this is my story, so he's going to get his girl. **Most likely.**
> 
> The chapter gets its title from this line in _Little Women_ :  
>  **But young as she was, Jo had learned that hearts, like flowers, cannot be rudely handled, but must open naturally.**


	3. Life and love are very precious when both are in full bloom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The heart is never an advocate of reason.

Mondays are always stressful, in Jerry's opinion. But especially so when the banker Mr. Cousins waves Jerry over as soon as he enters the bank with a declaration of, "My apologies, my dear boy, but I do need you to visit Mr. Barry today."

Mr. Barry is in fact Diana's father. Visiting Mr. Barry usually consists of a day spent dabbling over multiple accounts until exhaustion and then finding out that what Mr. Barry had needed did not require as much work. 

Jerry didn't complain, though. Mr. Cousins has just begun to let Jerry meet with Mr. Barry on his own about two weeks ago. He'll exhaust himself to assure Cousins that the first few applications of confidence are well-spent. And later, he'll be rewarded with the experience. 

The only problem is that Mr. Barry resides … "In Avonlea?" Jerry asks. "I just left Avonlea."

"Yes, that is what the apology is for," says Mr. Cousins. He drops a few coins in Jerry's hand. "For the trip back. And spend the rest of the week with him. He apparently needs to make many motions in order to prepare for his daughter's marriage."

Jerry swallows. _**Diana's marriage? But doesn't she have at least 3 years of school? She didn't say anything about this. When would she have said anything? Maybe she did. She did mention an argument–** _

"Jerry, don't dally!" Mr. Cousins asks, breaking into Jerry's thoughts.

Jerry nods and heads out the door. **_Jerry! She called you a mere 'excursion.' You don't need to concern yourself with Diana Barry's marriage!_**

But he **is** concerned. From the time he hops on his horse to when the maid Mary Joe answers the door to the Barry house, he is thinking about how confusingly unfair this whole event is.

Just as Mary Joe returns from announcing Jerry's presence to Mr. Barry's office door down the hall, there is a knock at the front door. Mary Joe opens up to greet the visitor and allows him entrance to the parlour. She then heads upstairs, leaving the two men alone.

Jerry checks out the other man. He is a plump fellow–annoyingly rich–clutching a bouquet of flowers. Jerry's eyes narrow. He doesn't know why he is compelled to say, "Diana despises daisies."

The man looks up almost immediately when he had been ignoring Jerry and, instead of taking the advice, he wonders in confusion, "Are you another suitor?"

Jerry shakes his head. "No," he replies. "I am a banker."

The man lets out an obvious sigh of relief. "Good."

"Mr. Wright." The door to Mr. Barry's office has opened to reveal the man.

"Mr. Barry," greets the fat fellow crossing the room to shake Mr. Barry's hand.

"Welcome!" says Mr. Barry, apparently ignoring Jerry's presence as well. "Diana is just–"

The statement is cut by a call from the lady herself. " _Jerry!"_ Diana says as she dashes down the stairs, her voice filled with excitement and the wonderful French language. " _Have you come to apologize?_ "

 ** _Why is she excited to see him?_** Jerry wonders silently, but out loud, he answers her question with another question. " _When have_ I _offended you?_ " He laughs at the ridiculous notion.

Diana joins in the laughter for some reason. Until Mr. Wright clears his throat across the room. Diana looks startled to find out that her father and her suitor are also present. "Mr. Wright," she says very solemnly. She shoots a panicked look at Jerry before extending her hand to greet the other man.

"Lovely Diana," says Mr. Wright, planting a kiss on the back of the offered hand.

"Mr. Wright," she says again as he hands over the daisies. She shoots Jerry another look, this one of reluctant acquiescence.

To assure everyone that Jerry and Diana's familiarity hadn't gone unnoticed, Mr. Barry posts a question for clarification. "Diana, are you acquainted with the banker's apprentice?"

"Very intimately, dear Father," Diana smiles at Jerry. Before her father could grow terrified that she might say something untoward, she adds, "we have known each other since we were children."

Mr. Barry nods in relief. "Well then," he says. "I shall let you carry on your visit with Mr. Wright. Where is your mother?" He glances about as if Diana's mother would materialize out of nowhere. "Eliza!"

Mrs. Barry comes down the stairs, slowly and reverent, in a stark difference from Diana's earlier descent.

"You are in charge of Mr. Wright's visit," orders Mr. Barry. "Jerry, you come with me into the office."

As soon as the office door closes behind him, Jerry quickly asks the question that has been plaguing his mind for the last few hours. "Diana is engaged?"

Mr. Barry frowned. "Jerry, I do not care for this intimacy you claim to have with my daughter."

"I didn't claim anything," protests Jerry. 

"Did not." Mr. Barry's eyes narrow.

"I did not claim anything," says Jerry in a voice he has adopted to mimic Mr. Cousins. He finds that people like Mr. Barry takes him more seriously when he doesn't sound like the Acadian farmhand. "My only concern is about the accounting process related to Miss Barry's upcoming nuptials." Even Jerry is surprised as how easily the lie comes out. "When is the wedding date?"

"She is not engaged," says Mr. Barry. (Jerry did not know that four words could bring him such relief.) "But, mark my words," Mr. Barry promises, "by the end of the week, she will be."

Jerry nods with clenched teeth, but gets to work. He knows better than to pursue this line of questioning. 

After about an hour of sorting through deeds, wills, and hardly enough actual bank accounts, Jerry looks out and manages to catch glimpse of Diana walking in the garden. At first glance, she appears alone but before Jerry could bask in that fact, he happens to notice Mr. Wright toddling after her.

The sight wakes him to the realization that if Mr. Barry is bothered by the mere appearance of friendship between Diana and Jerry, anything **more** could bring about anger or fury. 

Jerry is in a bind. He can't really change how he feels, but–

His work (and thoughts) are interrupted by a commotion just beyond the office door. Mr. Barry is kind enough to slip the door open so that both he and Jerry could watch the ruckus unfold.

"–needs to be handled before it gets out of hand," Diana is saying. "Mr. Wright, I will **not** marry you."

Mr. Wright looks flushed with anger. Or embarrassment.

"Diana!" Her mother cries. "Do not carry on with this rudeness! We have guests."

"Everyone here is an interested party," says Diana. She catches Jerry's eye through the door. "Or a friend."

Mrs. Barry glances about the parlor. She too lands her eyes on Jerry. "What about the banker?" she asks. "Would you involve him in our personal drama, Diana?"

" _Jerry_ is my friend," Diana explains.

Mr. Barry then steps out of the office and promptly shuts the door behind him. Jerry hears no more but a muttered version of the fight. There are raised voices, low voices, and finally everyone steps away.

Not sure on how the conflict ended, Jerry's mind is imaging the worst as he leaves the Barry house later that evening.

Mary Joe slips him a note at the door as she smiles and wishes him a good night.

 **Meet me at the barn** , reads the note in Diana's lovely penmanship. 

_**Maybe she'll clarify the entire case with Wright**_ , thinks Jerry as he assures no witnesses as he enters the barn behind the house.

She's waiting in the dark to jokingly ambush him into a hug. " _Jerry_."

" _What's going on?_ " Jerry questions, gently pushing her away. " _Someone'll see us_."

" _No one will come here,_ " Diana promises, grabbing his hands. " _Pick me up_."

He isn't falling for this again. Ever. " _I have to get home._ "

" _I missed you._ "

Jerry takes a deep breath and prays he has the strength to leave tonight with his heart intact. " _You didn't miss me the entire year you were away._ "

" _That is not fair, Jerry!_ " she says. " _You should have seen how many letters, and apologies, and explanations I began to write._ "

" _But I didn't, did I?"_ he says. " _Because you didn't send them._ "

Diana nods in silent repentance. "I know. I was foolish to think that this was just a passing fancy. A careless dalliance."

Jerry doesn't even know what the word **dalliance** entail, but Diana's excuses are always evenly worded.

"I am clear now," Diana declares. "On how I feel."

He folds his arms, hoping to appear uninterested. "And how's that?"

She leans closer conspiratorially and whispers, "Pick me up and I can **show** you."

 _ **More tricks and lies.**_ Jerry wants to follow the promise to its fulfillment, but he knows that the better choice would be to stay put. "I'm leaving," he says. "We end here."

"W-why?" Diana stutters as she follows him out of the barn. " _Jerry_!"

"You're right. This is a temporary–" He thinks on the word so much that having it on the tip of his tongue tastes bitter. "– **excursion**. It'll not end well."

"No, it is not!" She counters in a muted shout. " _Jerry! Jerry._ " She pulls him back into the shadows on the side of the house. "Wait. Wait. Wait." She glances about in a frenzy before letting out a secret, " _I love you_."

Honestly, that is the last thing Jerry is expecting her to say. "What. _R-really?_ "

Diana nods in assurance. " _With all my heart._ "

" _Really?"_ He mentally chides himself for idiotically repeating the same word.

She tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

" _Are you sure_?" Jerry asks. 

" _I am sure_ ." She **sounds** very sure. " _I love you, Jerry Baynard._ "

But this changes everything. Jerry sighs in relief, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. " _I love you too, Diana Barry._ " He finally gives in to her earlier desire to be lifted up, smiling eagerly when she wraps her hands around his neck. 

She plants a kiss on his forehead. And another on his nose. Then finally covers his lips with hers.

A bit later, after a silent debate, she accompanies him a little ways into the woods away from the house, clutching his hand the entire time. 

"I did not even know that you were a banker's apprentice," says Diana in a low voice. "When did you begin this appointment?"

"A few months ago," Jerry tries to match her volume. "I met your father on business terms about two months ago."

" _Does he like you?_ " she wonders, suddenly switching languages. 

" _Excuse me_?"

" _What does my father think of you_?"

" _How'll I know that_?" Jerry is certain Mr. Barry does not hold him in highest esteem.

" _Has he complained or … or …_ "

"He wasn't aware that I was Acadian until I began to meet with him without the company of the banker." _And once he figured that out, he wasn't as … chummy._ It wasn't like Jerry had been deliberate, but he had realized that certain types of people responded differently when he **lessened** his accent, so he had adopted a different lilt in his voice when he was on banker business. 

"Well, at least it is not pure discrimination," Diana thinks out loud. "You must endear yourself to him."

"Endear myself to him?" repeats Jerry.

"Make him like you," she clarifies.

"Why?" Almost angrily, the memory of when Mr. Barry had finally reached the conclusion that Jerry was Acadian came to mind. ( **"Baynard? Is that French? Huguenot?" "No, Acadian." "You're… Catholic?")**

"Well, if we must carry on, then at some point, he would have to know, would he not?" Diana says. She's clearly thought things through. "We should be prepared to smooth things over. Things go better when someone likes you rather than … not."

"There's no way your father is going to like me," Jerry's already concluded. "He only deals with my presence because I'm one of the fastest, most efficient workers at the bank."

"And most modest too," adds Diana with a smirk.

"I'm quite smart, you know," Jerry challenges, dropping her hand. "There's no reason to be humble when you are aware of your amplitude." It is a new word that he just added to his personal dictionary.

"Amplitude?" Diana blinks, wide eyed. "You must think highly of yourself."

He frowns. "Somebody has to."

"That is not what I meant."

" _You claim you love me yet you don't know **anything** about me _!" Jerry accuses.

" _You–you know nothing about me either_ ," Diana refutes.

Challenge accepted. "Your favorite color is blue. But not the navy blue you always wear–that's your mother's favorite color. You prefer sky blue or lady's blue, as you call it." 

He pauses to watch her gaze fall in humiliation. "Your favorite poet is Byron," he continues. "You think Shakespeare is overdramatic."

"You hate daisies. Not because you think they're not pretty but because you believe them to be unnecessarily beautiful. Like there's something odd and contemptible about being beautiful for no reason at all.

"Maybe you have too much in common with daisies." 

Jerry waits for the fight to escalate, but instead Diana nods in agreement. "I … I should resolve to get to know you better," she concludes.

And he is suddenly ashamed of instigation. "You should return home," he suggests.

She smiles. "I will see you soon," she bids with a quick kiss to his cheek.

Jerry waits until he can no longer see her shadow before starting his trek back to the Cabin.

When he arrives, he is greeted by an exuberant Jenny. " _Jerry, you came!_ " 

Jerry barely has time to process this overabundance of happiness at his presence when Jenny is pulling over a pretty blonde girl and introducing her sister-in-law, Jolie.

Jolie blushes when Jerry takes her hand in greeting. " _Happy to see you again_ ," she says _._ " _I hope we become closer friends._ "

 **I should resolve to know you better** , Jerry smiles at the words that dance back to the forefront of his mind. Jolie does not have the same gift of waltzing with words that Diana possesses, but–Remy was right–she does have the bluest eyes.

Jerry nods in agreement and manages through a dinner of amusement: Remy is watching, green with envy, as Jolie attempts to **endear herself** to Jerry.

Finally, after the plates are cleared and Jenny and Jolie have left the cabin (escorted by Jacques and Juneau), Remy has the hardihood to confront. " _You barely said a word to Jolie all night!_ " he accuses.

" _Neither did you_ ," Jerry returns.

" _What does that mean?_ "

Jerry raises an eyebrow. " _It means you should grow some balls and talk to the girl you like, Rem._ "

Rem steps forward offensively. " _You're playing a game? Do you want to find out who she likes better?_ "

Jerry rises to his full height. " _Well, I hope it isn't me because then we'll all be disappointed_."

Remy seems stunned. " _You don't like her? She's the prettiest girl on the Island._ "

" _You've met all the girls on the Island?_ " Papa teases.

Jerry joins in the laughter and receives a glare from Remy for his enjoyment.

The next morning, Jerry heads over to Green Gables early (before sunrise) to get started on his chores. He is finishing up by placing fresh eggs in the kitchen when Anne bounds down the stairs.

"Jerry!" She laughs in greeting. "I have been home for a full four days and finally get glimpse of you." She hugs him.

He chuckles in response. 

"Jerry's a very busy man, Anne," Marilla is finishing up with breakfast preparation. "He works at the bank in Carmody."

"The bank?" Anne asks. "This is a new development."

"Just a few months," Jerry explains.

"On an errand run to the city, he impressed the banker **unawares** by calculating … what was it?" Matthew has entered the kitchen from outside.

"The difference between simple and compound interest." _**Which isn't that hard** _ , Jerry adds wordlessly. But after Jerry spent hours trying to explain the concept to Matthew, the older man had abandoned the lesson, declaring Jerry a higher being with higher thoughts.

"My, you have grown," says Anne. "In more ways than physical." She winks.

Jerry fights back a blush.

"I worry that not only will Jerry find cause to leave," says Matthew, "he will also find avenue."

There is a brief silence in the room in acknowledgment of graveness of the statement.

"Well, as your **first** teacher," Anne declares, cutting into the gloom, "I deserve all the credit for sensing your vast potential."

Jerry rolls his eyes and laughs. 

"Wash the dirt off your hands now," orders Marilla. "It's time for breakfast."

Jerry nods and heeds the command.

Breakfast with the Cuthberts is enjoyable and over too soon. On the heels of its conclusion, Marilla's friend Mrs. Lynde rushes into the house.

"Marilla! You wouldn't believe what I heard this morning," she says, foregoing all greetings and pleasantries.

"Oh dear Lord, Rachel, it's too early for nonsense," says Marilla. "Sit down and have some tea."

But Mrs. Lynde ignores the redirect. She does sit down. "The Barry girl, Diana, is to be engaged to one of the Wright boys. You know the Wrights of Wright Freight. They own that grand house in Charlottetown."

"Rachel, wherever would you have heard that?" Marilla wonders.

Anne shoots a quick look at Jerry before answering, "It does not matter, because it is not true!"

"Anne girl, welcome back to Avonlea," says Mrs. Lynde. "I see you still haven't fixed that obnoxious habit of yours."

"I will when you fix yours," Anne says. She turns to Jerry. "You must never mind Mrs. Lynde; she is very outspoken."

"Anne!" Marilla warns.

"Excuse us." Anne rises to her feet. "Jerry and I will be leaving." She is already across the room when she realizes that Jerry is not accompanying her. "Jerry!" she mutters.

"I'm not finished yet," he says.

"Best to not argue with women, my boy," Matthew advises.

Reluctantly, Jerry carries his plate into the kitchen and follows Anne outside. Not before Mrs. Lynde loudly and deliberately moans, "poor Gilbert Blythe."

Almost immediately after they're out of earshot, Anne begins rambling. "It must not be true. We should not draw conclusions until we talk to Diana first. I know how disheartening rumors can be. There is a mistake somewhere."

"I don't think there is," Jerry says but he thinks, **_I_ ** _know_ **_there isn't_**. Out loud, he assures Anne, "I mean, it's just a rumor."

"Are you feigning strength?" Her eyes well up with tears.

Jerry chuckles as the ridiculousness of the entire conversation. "Why are you crying?" He wants to know. 

Anne sniffs. "Your love story is so tragic."

Jerry begs to differ. "It's not tragic **yet** ; nobody is dead."

"Yet?" She widens her eyes. "Do you plan to commit murder?"

"No …"

"Suicide then."

Jerry shakes his head. "You really have too much imagination." But there is a nagging thought at the back of his mind that maybe Anne did not have **enough**. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I picture Jerry code-switching, or changing his accents depending on who he is talking to. I always find this phenomenon interesting because it brings to light how easily perception can be changed.


	4. I almost wish I hadn't any conscience, it's so inconvenient

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When things fall apart, the ones left standing have to pick up the pieces.

When she wakes on Tuesday morning, Diana declares it to be a beautiful day just by the fact that she had dreamed such wonderful things. She decides to write a poem. Sitting at the writing desk in her room, she quickly jolts down in her notebook one of the best poems she has ever written. 

_ J'ai vraiment envie de toi _

_ J'ai tellement besoin de toi _

Indeed, it is a bit more risqué than her normal work, but Jerry (and the conversation that had transpired between the two of them the day before) is inspiring. 

She opens up the window and the wonderful sounds of Avonlea greet her. Diana is so glad to live in such a small town unspoiled by the noises of the city. She washes up, gets dressed, and heads downstairs for breakfast—all the while humming a merry tune. 

"Why are you smiling, Diana?" wonders Minnie May at the table.

"Do wipe that smirk off your face!" says Mother. "Do you feel accomplished now that you have done naught but embarrass us?" Mother has apparently set her sights on having Fred Wright as a son-in-law. If only Diana didn’t detest him so much, she might oblige her mother.

" **Embarrass** ?" Diana echoes.

Father enters the room. "I think it is time we cut off relations with the Cuthberts, do you agree, Eliza?" 

"It is too late to threaten me, Father," says Diana boldly. "Anne and I are already the best of friends. Nothing you can do will keep us apart." She raises an eyebrow. "Also, how can rejecting Mr. Wright's proposal be attributed to Anne?"

"That girl has brought nothing but trouble!" Mother laments. 

"Mother, you  **like** Anne," Minnie May points out. "You said though she was uncouth in expressing them, she was not mistaken in her opinions." She turns to her father. "And  **you** said 'she would make a fine gentleman. Indeed.'" Which is a great compliment if it came from Father’s own mouth. Indeed.

Father bites his lip but says nothing. 

After a small chuckle, Diana throws her sister a wink for the act of salvation. Then she quietly begins her breakfast. Halfway through, she breaks the silence to ask, "What is everyone's plans for today?"

She is especially interested in Father's, for she wonders if Jerry will be by the house again today. The two of them (Jerry and she) had not made any future plans to see each other. 

"I hae invited some schoolmates over for a picnic in the garden this afternoon," Minnie May replies. "You are welcomed to join."

Diana tries not to make a face. Yesterday, in the garden, Fred Wright had attempted to kiss her. She will not be returning to the scene for at least some time, thank you very much.

"I will be chaperoning, of course," says Mother.

"I will be working to pay for this leisure project," Father snarls.

Diana raises an eyebrow. "With the banker?"

"Banker's apprentice," corrects Father. "But no, Jerry will not be coming over."

The sentence sounds suspiciously threatening, but Diana discards her misgivings to wonder about Jerry. Would he be at Green Gables or at home in the woods? 

Diana sighs. "This was shaping up to be a really good day," she mumbles.

After breakfast, she sneaks away and heads out. She considers heading to Green Gables, but did not want to happen upon Anne. (Her best friend can be quite loquacious, if Diana permits her to rant on.) 

Diana heads instead to the Baynard cabin. She is barely into the clearing when she realizes that she has made a grave error. 

Jerry's youngest brother catches sight of her almost immediately and screams for her attention. "DIANA!" He sprints towards her.

Diana could never recall their names, but the boy has never forgotten hers because he continues to shriek it out loud as he leaps into her arms. Diana is then forced to smile when two others (both girls) join the fray.

"We missed you," says the oldest of the three in almost perfect English. She is grinning from cheek-to-cheek.

"It's been such a long time," Diana agrees.

" _ Diana _ ," another of the girls chimes in French. " _ I'm Isa. Do you remember me _ ?"

" _ Isa _ ," Diana repeats, hoping to commit it to memory. 

"How have you been?" the English-speaking girl says. 

"Your English is getting better," compliments Diana.

Bon Bon the dog, who had apparently been missing in action, decides to then make an appearance. She remains chained (Diana makes sure of that, having made the previous mistake of running only to fall and humiliate herself). The loud barking alerts Lisette, Jerry’s mother, who rushes out of the house to address the ruckus. 

"Diana!" She greets. " _ Jerry was just saying that we will never see you again _ ." She laughs and pulls Diana into a hug and a kiss on the cheek. 

Diana takes in everything, the smell of musk mixed in with whatever divine meal Lisette is cooking, and realizes that her own mother is never this generous with affection. And why had Jerry sworn that Diana would never return? The cabin had presented an act of such overwhelming independence for Diana.

" _ Are you back for good? _ " Lisette wonders when she finally pulls away. 

Diana shakes her head. " _ Only for the summer _ ."

" _ Would you like to visit? _ " Lisette asks. " _ I have some beignets from breakfast." _

Diana, who has just eaten breakfast, finds refusing food to be rude--and besides, she's never had beignet before (and they do smell heavenly). She nods. " _ The house is so quiet today _ ," she points out. And by "quiet," Diana does mean "for the Baynard house."

" _ Everyone's off to work _ ," Lisette agrees. 

" _ And Jenny got married _ ," the little boy adds. He is now slipping a hand into Diana's to lead her towards the house.

Diana isn't sure which one Jenny is to be honest, but she makes a mental note that Jerry has an  **older?** sister named Jenny.

" _ Ismaël had to run to town to buy some things _ ," continues Lisette once they are inside, " _ but he will be back soon. _ "

" _ Ismaël _ ?" Possible one of Jerry's brothers?

" _ My husband _ ," Lisette explains.

Diana mentally slaps herself. " _ Of course _ ."

Lisette fills a plate and hands it over with a question, " _ How is college? _ "

Diana nods absentmindedly. Her focus is more on the offering before her, which appears to be some dough covered with sugar. They smelled delicious.

Ben-yay, Lisette had said.

Taking a chance, Diana nibbles a small bite. "Wow," she compliments. "These taste wonderful."

Lisette smiles but says nothing. The children idle about the room, but the little boy interjects, " _ beignets are my favorite _ !"

" _ I completely agree with you _ ," decides Diana.

" _ Can I have another, Mama _ ?" The boy's attention has shifted. " _ I want to eat with Diana _ ."

" _ No, Froi _ ," says Isa. " _ You eat too much _ ."

" _ Are they on summer vacation?"  _ Diana manages in between bites. " _ Isa and … the rest. _ "

" _ We do not go to school _ ," the English speaker has now shifted to French.

Diana almost feels ashamed for asking. " _ So how do you speak English so well _ ?"

" _ Io learns English from her older brothers, _ " interjects Lisette.

"Your name is Yo?" Diana asks.

" _ Iolanthe _ ," corrects the little girl. " _ But everyone calls me Io. _ "

"Which is your preference?" Diana presses in English. 

Io looks confused. Maybe her level of English understanding is not as high as she poses.

Diana switches to French. " _ Which do you prefer _ ?"

Io is still confused.

Now Diana is stumped. Maybe  **her** level of French understanding is not as high as she believes. " _ Should I call you  _ Yo _ or Iolanthe? _ "

"Yo-LuhNT," chuckles Iolanthe. "And yes.  _ Io is a small name but I am a big girl now. _ "

Diana agrees, " _ A big girl should have a big name _ ."

" _ I have the biggest name _ !" Isa says suddenly. " _ I- _ **_sah_ ** _ -bel-leh." _

" _ My name is bigger _ ," insists Iolanthe.

" _ Let us find out _ ," suggests Diana. She has polished off the last of the beignets by now. " _ Do you know how many letters are in your name _ ?"

" _ Jerry didn't teach us that _ ," Iolanthe says. " _ Just the letters. _ "

" _ Well, letters always spell words. Names are words, so let us spell your name _ ."

The girls cheer but the little boy looks sad.

" _ What is the matter, Froi _ ?" Diana asks. " _ Do you not want to learn how to spell your name? _ "

" _ Jerry teaches me _ ," he insists.

Not wanting to upset the boy but slightly intrigued by his loyalty, Diana quietly turns away. " _ Ok then, ladies, _ " she addresses her students. " _ Your names begin with the same letter.  _ I think.  _ Do you know what that is _ ?"

The girls shake their heads. "J?" Iolanthe attempts. " _ Like Jenny, Jacques, Juneau, Jérémie, Jerry, and Joffroi _ ."

" _ Jenny is the oldest,"  _ Diana realizes. She didn't quite catch everyone's names, but she does recall that Froi ( _ Joffroi _ , apparently) had mentioned his sister's marriage.

Lisette nods. " _Jenny_ _and Jacques,_ " she says _._ " _They're besson."_

" _ Besson? _ "

" _ Besson _ ," Lisette repeats.

That's not a term that Diana knows, but she does not press. She returns to the matter at hand. " _ Actually, Iolanthe doesn't start with a  _ J.  _ It begins with an  _ I.  _ Like Isabelle. _ "

Iolanthe folds her arms. " _ That doesn't make any sense _ ," she says. " _ It's Yo-laynt _ ."

" _I think, in English, it's said_ Ahy-uh-lan-thee," Diana explains, suddenly assaulted by memory. " _My parents took us to see an opera by Gilbert and Sullivan_ _in New York a few years ago._ _I think I was 12?_ " 

Now that she recalls, the opera  _ Iolanthe  _ is actually one of her favorite family trips. It had been her first trip to New York. Well, really, according to her parents, Diana had been born in New York, where William and Eliza had lived for the first few years of their marriage. Her parents had actually seen  _ Iolanthe  _ on opening night in London 1882 (Diana had been born in July 1883), and had taken their daughters along in 1895 for a second viewing. They also had admitted to being close to naming their first daughter Phyllis (after the beautiful Shepherdess in the opera). Diana had enjoyed the music immensely but had since forgotten the storyline.

Isa giggles, " _ What are you saying? _ " which jolts Diana out of her thoughts. 

"I-O-L-A-N-T-H-E," Diana spells.

“I-O-L-A …?” Iolanthe is trying to keep up; she’s tracing the letters on the floor in chalk.

“N. T. H. E.” Diana watches as the girl scribbles her name down perfectly. She has learned well.

“I. O. L. A. N. T. H. E.” Io repeats. She takes a step back and stares at the letters, which may have seem so unfamiliar to her even though they spelled out a word so dear to her.

“ _ What’s my name _ ?” wonders Isa.

“ _ Isabelle _ ,” Diana says for elucidation. “I. S. A. B. E. L. L. E. Isabelle.”

“I? S? A?”

“B-E-L-L-E.”

“B? E? L? L? E?” 

Diana laughs at how serious Isa looks attempting to remember all the letters.

The next few minutes pass quickly, as Diana endeavors to teach the girls exactly to count how many letters each name consists of. She had not known how much enjoyment could be found in the education of others. She is both at her wit’s end and on the brink of amusement when Froi gently taps her shoulder for attention.

“ _ Could you teach me? _ ” he asks quietly.

Diana nods, confused about what brought on the change of heart. “ _ How do you write ‘Froi?’”  _ She is talking more to herself than to him. The spelling of French words are different than the ones in English, just as the pronunciation differs. Admonishment from her old French tutor rings in her ears.

“ _ Joffroi _ ,” he clarifies.

“ _Joffroi_ ,” repeats Diana. **She needs to remember that**. “ _That’s a wonderful name._ ” She retrieves the chalk from Iolanthe to write out the word as she spells it out. “I think it’s J-O-F-F-R-O-I.”

Froi echoes the spelling and writes the word down below hers.

“ _ Perfect! _ ”

He smiles. “ _ And how do you write ‘Jerry’?” _

Diana raises an eyebrow, but before she can ask, two older boys stroll into the cabin, talking and laughing rumbustiously.  **Jerry’s older brothers** , she surmises,  **were similar in appearance but not in personality.** One of them is clearly leading the conversation while the other has a quiet façade about him.

“ _ Is it  _ Diana Barry?” the talker laughs. The other one merely nods.

“ _ Hello, _ ” Diana greets them both.

“Yes. We met last year,” he begins in English and ends French _,_ “ _and my_ _little sisters talk about you all the time._ ”

Isa and Iolanthe beam with pleasure, welcoming their brothers with hugs and kisses.

“ _ You have me at a disadvantage _ ,” Diana says.

The two men exchange a look of misunderstanding.

“ _ What are your names? _ ”

“ _ I’m Jacques _ , _ ”  _ the talker introduces _. “This is Juneau. _ ”

“ _ Jacques. Jenny’s  _ …  _ besson. _ ” Maybe she would finally get clarification on the word. However, Jacques laughs, Juneau nods, and Diana still doesn’t understand.

As she walks home later, Diana reflects on the whole lunch affair—where Jacques had spoken too much and Juneau had said very little; Iolanthe had practiced her English while Isa had practiced her French; and little Froi had stuck close humming his favorite tune—and decides that she wants as least as many children as the Baynards, so that her home could be filled with some many different personalities. The Barry house is so empty in comparison.

She is so immersed in her happy thoughts that her feet take the liberty to carry her where they will. She is just outside Green Gables before she knows it. A humming voice—the same song that Froi has been humming all morning in fact—alerts Diana. She ducks in the cornstalks just as Jerry comes to view.

**Why am I hiding?** She wonders. Didn't she just go on a quest to find Jerry a few hours ago?

She glances furtively out at where she had last seen him. He has vanished from view. And the humming has stopped too.

" _ Jerry _ ?" she … whispers. "Where did he—"

Her question is interrupted by a gasp—her own—as Jerry's arms wrap around her from behind. He gently lifts her and sits her on the fence while she is trying (and failing) at not blushing or meeting his eyes.

" _ I've plucked a lover _ ," he says confidently with that boyishly sweet grin of his.

When her eyes happen upon him, she blushes as she recalls the words she had written concerning their escapades last night. " _ Hello _ ."

He smiles back, nervously. " _Hi _ ."

One of his hands are still intertwined with hers, and his eyes wander to the connection. Diana takes advantage to bask in the beauty of his face.  **Our children will be astonishingly beautiful** , she thinks.

"Is that from a book?" she asks.

Jerry raises an eyebrow.

" _ I plucked a lover _ ," she explains. "It sounds poetic."

" _ Don't you know what a lover is _ ?" he asks.

Diana smiles and blushes. " _ I do … I mean … _ " She looks away. " _ You _ …?" When she returns back to him, he is staring into the distance. " _ Jerry? _ "

" _ I can't help how I feel about you _ ," he admits, looking down at his feet.

She places a hand on his chin to guide his eyes back to her. " _ Well, that is ok. Is it not? _ " She says encouragingly. " _ I cannot help how I feel about you either. _ "

He still refuses to meet her eyes. " _ I can't give you a grand house in the city _ ," Jerry admits.

" _ I do not want  _ **_that_ ** ," Diana laughs. " _ Why would you think that _ ?"

Jerry's answer, and the rest of the conversation, is cut off by a shriek across the yard. "Diana!"

Jerry drops her hand and steps back, but thankfully did not disappear.

Anne Shirley Cuthbert is racing across Green Gables in a most undignified matter, as if the house is on fire. "Oh," Anne has a look of mischief on her face when she nears the couple, "did I interrupt a lover's tryst?"

"Do not be silly, Anne," Diana eases herself down to the ground. "Jerry and I were just talking."

"Whatever about?" Anne challenges, trying to catch her breath.

"The French language," Diana responds quickly. She turns to Jerry, who still has that sad look on his face. She would have to dive into it in private. Something must have happened between when she last saw him and now. 

"Jerry," Diana says. "Lisette said something about Jenny and Jacques. She said they're  _ besson _ ."

" _ Oui _ ." Jerry nods.

"Well?" asks Diana. "What does that mean?"

"Oh! There is an English word for it." He bites his lip as he tries to think of an explanation. "They're … born at the same time."

"Ah …  _ Jumeaux _ ?" Diana asks.

" _ Jumeaux? _ "

"It's 'twins' in English," she says, " _ jumeaux  _ in French."

Jerry shrugs. "We say, ' _ besson _ .'"

Anne rolls her eyes. "Oh, you were simply discussing the nuisances of the French language," she says dismissively. She grabs for Diana's shoulders. "Are you engaged?"

"To who?" Diana couldn't be more surprised.

"The wrong Mr. Wright," Anne says.

"Of course not!" Diana shoots a look at Jerry as she utters the word.

Anne smiles. "See, Jerry, it is just a silly rumor."

Is that what had upset him so?

Diana did never get her answer, for Anne commandeered her attention for the rest of the afternoon. When she finally escaped her friend's hospitality, Jerry was nowhere to be found. Diana can do naught but head home.

Dinnertime is on the horizon when Diana enters the Barry house. She is hungry; Marilla had offered food on the way out but she had gracefully declined. Why did she always have to be so graceful, anyways? Why can she not just polish off a bowl when her stomach is empty and kiss the man she loves when she wants to? Gracefulness is overrated.

Speaking of elegance, Mother confronts Diana as soon as she exits the parlour without any preamble, "Where have you been, Diana?"

"At Green Gables," came the prompt reply. 

"All day?"

If she was younger (and dumber), the line of inquiry would have stunned Diana. "Oh, Mother, please. I had such a wonderful day today," she redirects instead. "Please do not ruin it with another squabble."

"There will not be a squabble," Father interjects from the doorway of his office. "For I have a proposal for you."

"A proposal?" Diana repeats. "What kind of proposal?" 

Even Mother looks perplexed.

"Concerning the rest of your education," he answers. "Come in, Diana." Without a glance behind him to insure that his daughter would follow, he enters the room.

Diana exchanges a look with her mother before following her father.

He promptly closes the door behind her.

"There is still at least three more years left of my education," Diana declares. "Maybe more."

Father leads her to a chair and bids her to sit. "My father was always of the mind that a girl should not be allowed too many freedoms," he begins, "but since I have no sons, I think I may have indulged you too many."

Diana smirks. "What a way to start a conversation!"

"Diana," Father continues in all seriousness, "I do not believe another chance would come like this for you."

"Chance?"

"The Wrights are immensely wealthy, and—"

Diana shoots to her feet. "They have nothing but money!" she gripes. "Fred Wright does not even have the common sense to pause to allow the other person to speak in a conversation. Father, would you want me to spend the rest of my life being silent?"

Father closes his eyes for a brief moment. "Would you rather spend the rest of your life being deprived?"

"What do you mean?"

"I was trying to figure out why Jerry looked so familiar," Father says. "We retrieved you from his family's house last year." He takes a dramatic pause before enunciating the next sentence, "And then I saw you in the barn last night."

Diana's eyes widen in horror. "You … saw … us?"

"Not quite," he says. "But you were holding hands when you exited, obviously besotted."

Diana blinks quickly. "Does Mother know?"

"No."

She sighs for small miracles. "What do you want of me?"

"You will surrender your so-called friendship and cut ties with him."

Diana blinks back tears she wasn't aware had started to form. "I love him," she manages to protest.

"Youth is so easily charmed by the smallest of gestures and the vainest of features," her father explains, almost poetically. "You will move on."

Had she not tried that already? "I cannot."

Father nods; he had expected this outcome. "I thought you might say that. Which is why I have this proposal. You will announce your engagement to Fred Wright."

"No!" Diana attempts to muffle her scream, knowing that, quite possibly, Mother is still in the hallway or parlour.

"Diana," Father promises, "I will make sure that you have ample time to complete your education."

"Father, I will not!" she whispers. "I despise Fred Wright."

Father shakes his head. "He is harmless."

Diana scoffs. "And  **boring** ."

"And infatuated by you. You could do worse than marrying a man who loves you, Diana."

She folds her arms. "And if I refuse?"

Father bristles. He always stands stiffly when he behaves in a manner he believes is unbecoming. "I have quite a few contacts at the bank," he says. "Think of how difficult life could be for Jerry."

Diana says nothing. Jerry is so proud of his work, and her father is petty enough to ruin everything.

"Diana? Are we in agreement?"

Diana isn't sure it she nodded or frowned or quarrelled, but she couldn't leave the discomfort of her father's office soon enough. Surely enough, she does pass Mother in the hall.

"It is dinnertime, Diana," Mother is quick to point out. "Aren't you hungry?"

Diana ignores her. She is indeed hungry, but she doubts that food would provide enough satisfaction. She rushes upstairs to her room to slam the door shut and breathe. One slow deep inhale later, and she bursts into sobs. She barely manages to cross the room to her bed in order to reach for her notebook, hoping the words she had written earlier could provide some comfort.

**Tongue**

**is explicit**

_ J'ai vraiment envie de toi _

_ J'ai tellment besoin de toi _

**He makes me feel wanted, needed**

**Feelings can be assuaged with a kiss**

**And words** —

**Tender words** —

**I do so miss**

**Tongue**

The tears flow freely as she reflects about the difference between how elevated she had felt when she wrote these words and how downtrodden she feels now—and how mere hours had separated the two different feelings.

**Jerry!** She thinks.  **Oh, Lord, how am I going to tell Jerry?**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Acadian French word for the burdock plant is _amoureux_ (which translates to "lover" in traditional French), so Jerry made a pun. I thought Diana would know to appreciate it, but alas! languages puns are so hard.


	5. The humblest tasks get beautified if loving hands do them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words could never say enough.

The first thing on the agenda when Jerry wakes on Wednesday is to find _l'amoureux_ flower. Unfortunately, as the month of June is on its last legs, he cannot happen upon a single one of the purple flowers in bloom. The field outside Green Gables produces no result, neither does the field near the schoolhouse nor the Protestant church. If only he had begun this venture a month in the future, there would be many of the thistle-like sprouts all about the Island.

He is just about to surrender his grand gesture of love when he encounters it—a budding blossom in the woods near the Barry house. It has just enough purple to bring in color, and he is almost sadden to pluck it just as it has begun its life. But the bud’s sacrifice is not in vain, Jerry assures it as he cradles it in his jacket pocket. **Diana will love you** , he promises.

He is almost late to his meeting at the Barry house, but he manages to slip in just in time.

Before Mary Joe announces his arrival, he sneaks _l'amoureux_ into the maid’s hand. “Could you give this to Diana?" he requests.

"What is it _?_ " asks Mary Joe.

" _L'amoureux_ ," he whispers.

“Lomour?” she questions.

 _Close enough_ , thinks Jerry. He nods.

“Should I say it’s from you?”

Jerry nods again.

Mary Joe smiles and knows to hide the bud before alerting Mr. Barry of his presence.

The rest of the morning passes swiftly in the office and before Jerry knows, it is lunchtime and Mr. Barry is about to dismiss him. Except he doesn’t. Instead, Mr. Barry asks, “Jerry, have you ever heard of the _Université Laval_?”

Jerry shakes his head. “No, sir.”

“Of course not,” Mr. Barry half-mutters under his breath. He then says out loud to Jerry, “The university is located in Quebec City—”

 **_That’s far_ **, thinks Jerry. He does not quite know how far Quebec City is, but he remembers a long time ago, when Papa had to visit his sister in QC when she was sick. He was gone for a long, long time and when he returned, he said that he had spent most of the time away traveling.

Mr. Barry continues. “—but they have recently opened a campus in Montreal. They’re looking for bright minds like yours to pilot the mathematics faculty.”

 **Where … is Montreal?** Jerry wants to ask, but instead he says, “I don’t have a secondary education, sir.” 

“You should not have to worry about that.” Mr. Barry smiles. “Mr. Cousins considers you the most brilliant apprentice he has ever fostered.” Mr. Barry hands him a sheet filled with large letters and dates. 

Jerry’s eyes stumbles about the page, ravenous for understanding. A few words (“Quebec” “Montreal” “ _Université_ ”) reach out to him until he comes to a realization. “It is in French.”

“English is on the other end.” Mr. Barry encourages him to turn the page over. “There will be an entrance examination this Saturday in Charlottetown. If you get in, I will fund the entire expedition.”

 **Fund?** Jerry raises an eyebrow. “You will pay for my education? Why?”

“Whenever I fish out the biggest fish out of the pond, I always wonder, ‘is this fish simply too big, or has the pond actually limited its growth?’”

 **Damn it**! Jerry thinks. **Just answer my question!** “Did Diana say something?” he wonders.

“Diana?” Mr. Barry scoffs. “What would fulfilling your potential have to do with Diana?”

Jerry shrugs. “Nothing, I suppose.” 

“Take the flier with you,” Mr. Barry suggests. “And consider it.”

Jerry does take his advice, but he worries that it is more of a warning. Mr. Barry is not the nicest person in Avonlea, but his offer is best hope Jerry could have at this moment in his life. But if Montreal is farther away than QC, the distance would definitely pose a threat to Jerry’s nearness to his family and his confidence in his love life. He contemplates over the offer until he is back at Green Gables, where he finds one of his closest friends captivated by a book.

“Anne,” he asks her, with no thought on whatever adventure he may be interrupting, “how far away is Montreal?”

“It is far,” she declares, putting the book down and away. “But not as far away as Toronto. Where Gilbert is. It takes nearly 2 weeks for a letter to reach him, even if I send one as soon as I am done reading his." She lets out a dramatic sigh. "Long-distance romance is such a hassle.”

Jerry fears, “It doesn’t take 2 weeks for a person to reach Toronto, does it?”

“No, it takes two days, but the post office is slow due to ... inventorying.” Anne rolls her eyes. Then, she suddenly has a bright idea. “Let us consult the map!” Without further ado, she unrolls one from the bookshelf.

“Here we are in PEI.” She points with an index finger. “West and south, there is Quebec City on the St. Lawrence River; and further down, on the same river, Montreal.” She continues to follow the River with her finger. “If you follow the River down to Lake Ontario, there’s Toronto.” She puts a hand over her heart. “Where my heart lies.”

“That’s far!” Jerry laments in response.

“Why are you suddenly interested in the cartography of Montreal?” Anne asks. “Who is moving to Montreal?”

“I was considering a university there.”

Anne gasps. “I am a proponent of higher education,” she says excitedly. “You should definitely take the opportunity.” She leans in to add, “Diana will agree also.”

Jerry wishes he is as confident. “Don’t say anything to anyone,” he cautions. “I haven’t decided yet.”

Anne crosses her fingers. “You can trust me with your secrets, Jerry.”

He laughs. “Thanks, Anne.”

Jerry didn’t really get a chance to share thoughts about the (possibility of) university education and the implications of Mr. Barry’s offer with Diana, because he didn’t encounter her for the rest of the week. He is not needed at the Barry’s any longer and Diana never comes over to Green Gables (or the Cabin, for he had overheard his siblings’ discussion of her visit on Tuesday). And then it is Saturday morning, and he’s hopped a train to Charlottetown to take his entrance exam.

The test is administered fully in French, and Jerry's limited comprehension of the written language hinders him. Once he decides to just pronounce the words (in his head) in Papa's voice, he fares better, though he worries that his earlier dally would result in failure.

By Sunday, he has put the exam and Mr. Barry's offer behind him. However, he is pleasantly surprised when he walks over to his family's house to find, "Diana? What are you doing here?"

" _Going to Sunday Mass, of course_ ,” she replies.

“ _I invited her_ ,” declares Juneau.

“ ** _You_** _did?_ ” Jacques asks, but Jerry is just wondering why Juneau deemed this an occasion to speak at all. “ _No_ , **_I_** _invited her._ ”

“ _I did_!” both Isa and Io joins the conversation. The two laugh when they realize that they have spoken in a chorus.

“ _I want her here!_ ” says Froi then, apparently ashamed that he hadn't made the initial request.

“ _Bien, bien,_ ” says Maman. “ _We all like Diana_ ." She places her hands on her hips. " _Find your partners and let's get going_!"

They always walk to Mass in pairs (or trios to assuage the fact that Jenny's departure has left left them an uneven number). Froi promptly picks Diana as his walking partner, Io always chooses Maman, Isa is with Jacques, and Papa has something to discuss with Juneau, leaving Jerry to settle for Remy.

“ _I don’t like Diana_ ,” mumbles Remy, just to be contrary.

Jerry places an elbow on his older brother's shoulders—a feat made easy by their height differences. “ _Well,_ _you’re in the minority._ ”

Remy sticks out his tongue to display his level of maturity and shrugs off the elbow.

Jerry is already looking away, however, to the object of his affections. He can't keep his eyes off of her. And Jerry isn't sure if it is because he's skeptical of her presence, wary of what it represents, or simply enamored by the way she laughs at Jacques' jokes, acknowledges Juneau frequently with a nod in his direction, chats animatedly with his sisters, and respects his parents. She even keeps Froi close, resting a hand on his shoulders intermittently. 

And from the number of times she meets his glance, Diana appears to have the same problem. The knowledge brings a smile to his face quite a few times throughout the stroll to Mass.

Papa saddles up to him outside the hall where everyone is greeting friends and family. (Jenny and her husband are even being accosted by Froi, who insists on introducing Diana, even though Diana and Jenny have previously met.)

" _You lied to me_ ," Papa accuses. " _About Diana_."

Jerry has to break the eye contact with Diana to abashedly blush in his father's direction. " _Papa, I didn't mean—_ "

" _I'm not angry_ ," Papa interrupts. " _Just surprised that I missed it._ " He rubs a hand at the base of his neck before launching into story. " _Years ago, you and Remy found a rat in the cabin. The two of you placed it under the footboards, because you wanted to keep it as a pet. The problem is, you hid it in the kitchen. Maman and I came in the next day to find the entire storage of cornmeal had been ransacked._ " Papa laughs at the memory, harkening a smile from Jerry. " _You were never good at hiding things, Jerry. Neither is Remy._ " He nods across the way, where Remy has joined Froi and Diana in the group with Jenny, her husband Jean, and her sister-in-law Jolie.

Remy is flushing hard and trying to say something, his eyes firmly on Jolie. But Jolie is sending a smile Jerry's way.

Jerry looks back at his father, sure to ignore Jolie. The last thing he would want is to anger Remy.

" _I don't think this is going to be easy for you—loving her_ ," Papa says about the topic at hand.

Jerry shoots a look at Diana. " _It's the easiest thing I've ever had to do_ ," he counters.

Papa chuckles, slapping a hand on Jerry's back as the priest calls the congregation inside the hall to begin Mass. " _All men can become poets._ "

Jerry likes that his father is very smart and observant. Ismaël Baynard doesn't have a primary education, but he has the gift of inference. Jerry always wonders what possibilities could have been out there for his father if he had only received the right opportunity. 

Mass begins with a wonderful hymn, lead by (as usual) his mother. Jerry usually prefers not to sing along, but rather bask in the angelic glory that is Maman's voice. It's always heavenly when his mother sings: she consistently hits every note and brings life to the music.

The service progresses as normal. The priest talks, then there is singing. Afterwards, there is communion, and more singing. Then the offering and more singing. Jerry looks at Diana to make sure she hasn't grown weary, but, sandwiched between his sisters, she seems well at ease.

After Mass, he is worried that he won't get a moment to talk to her, especially as the congregation exits the hall, but she pulls him aside and behind the Mass hall where they could have minimal privacy.

"My birthday is this week," she whispers. 

"I know," says Jerry. "Wednesday."

Diana smirks, apparently proud that he knows that. "So indulge me this once." She doesn't wait for his consent before she plants a kiss on his lips.

Jerry shoots a quick glance over his shoulder. **_What if someone sees us?_** he thinks. He asks instead, "how about we wait until July actually starts before indulgence begins?" The date is only June 30 after all.

She considers it. "Will you indulge me for the entire month then?"

"Diana, I indulge you every day."

They share a laugh—Diana's in amusement, Jerry's in mortification. **_All men become poets, indeed_ ** **.**

"I received the flower," she says in a low voice. "It is called _l'amoureux_?"

Jerry nods.

"We call it burdock," she explains. "The English name sounds quite mundane in comparison." She rolls her eyes. " _I would rather get an amoureux from my amoureux_."

He chortles at the pun, his laughter quickly stifled by Diana's hand on the back of his neck. "Diana!" he cautions.

But she ignores his heeding to kiss him firmly. "How I missed you so," she whines.

"And I, you. But we can't do this here." He takes a step back, deploring the lack of contact.

Diana pouts, weakening his resolve. It's not like her to be this brazen.

 ** _What is going on in that whimsical brain of yours?_** He wonders, but for the brief moment that he is wondering, Diana takes advantage to slide closer—so close that her body is pressed against his—and capture his lips once again. 

This time, he doesn't protest as he falls victim to lust. Rather he allows himself in be swept away by the sound waves of Diana's moans, coupled by a few groans of his own. 

Overwhelmed, his legs begin to wobble and he sinks to his knees. Jerry blinks in surprise, unsure if he is suddenly assaulted by the need to pray. A lifelong Catholic, he has never been this reverent. 

Diana is stunned as well, probably at the sudden halt in festivities, but she recovers quickly and climbs into his lap. "How did you end up down here?"

"I … I think I **fell**?" he surmises.

"In love?" she teases, clicking her tongue. 

Jerry isn't sure what's different, but there's something … friskier about his girl today. She is more carefree, taking more risky chances. 

Then she adjusts in her seat and Jerry realizes that there is a grave error. She is seated directly on what Jerry's father had nicknamed " _the stem_ ", when Papa was fumbling through discussing where babies come from. And this stem is beginning to grow. Jerry has ways of dealing with this, of course; he is an 18-year-old man who has dealt with lust in the basest of forms. However, none of these solutions are adequate for when Diana is pressed into his lap in the most salacious manner.

"We should head back," Jerry manages, trying to ignore his erection. "Someone might see us."

Actually, the place always clears up quickly after Mass as most of the congregation is eager to home for lunch with family. The Baynards always did a little picnic on days like these when the weather is nice.

Diana shakes her head and just pecks him again. "Stop making poor suggestions," she advises, clasping both hands behind his neck to deepen the kiss.

**_"The stem … likes to plant, um, seeds on fertile soil. Which lies between a woman's legs," Papa had attempted to explain._ **

**_"This sounds stupid," Jerry had said then because he was ten and because he had said that every time else that his father had pulled him aside for a one-on-one._ **

**_Papa had smirked, "when you're in the moment, it would be anything but stupid."_ **

And right he was. Or is. Because Jerry is in the moment right now: Diana's hands are running up and down his back, her tongue is dancing about entangled with his, and her "fertile soil" is separated from his "stem" by mere layers of clothing. 

"Ooh!" Diana is making sounds that stir up … **_desire_ **.

Jerry wonders… well, whenever he gets sexually excited, there are little games he can play with his hands that temper the problem. **_What if Diana_ ** … No, that would be scandalous! And preposterous. 

He places both hands on her thighs and, as Diana leans into him, they threaten to uplift her dress.

She breaks the kiss to glance down at where the hands are and then makes eye contact.

 ** _Will she slap me?_** Jerry wonders, inhaling loudly. 

With a slight tilt of her head, Diana lifts the dress just enough to cover his hands and returns to her previous career of riling him up—this time by planting small kisses across his face and neck.

"Diana," he whispers; the name is both a warning and a suggestion.

But she offers no remorse. If anything, she gives encouragement with her continued purrs and moans.

Now that he has received everything but consent, Jerry turns his attention to the matter at hand: finding this fertile soil between her legs. Would he even know when he has found it? His fingers inch closer to the midpoint.

 **Diana will know** , he realizes.

She gasps when he makes contact with her undergarments, but still does not protest.

Jerry pauses a quick second to catch his breath. Then Diana's kisses turn to small sucks and little licks, and he knows he is in borrowed time to find her pleasure center before he explodes.

He slides a hand through the barrier of her undergarments, reaching with his middle finger … reaching… There is nothing there. As least nothing jutting like his. There's just a mound of flesh. A curve. And then … a hole?

Diana makes a small noise in the back of her throat. 

" _Did I hurt you_?" he asks in a sharp undertone. 

She shakes her head rapidly and widen her legs so that his finger sink lower into her depths. And how inviting and warm she feels.

The kisses have stopped. Diana's head is now resting on his chest as she appears to be processing the emotions she is encountering. 

Jerry too is feeling overwhelmed, and try as he might, he can't call forth the litany of regret Catholics are known for. Here is he, behind the hall where he has spent hours in repentance, giving in to the basest of sins, and feeling no regret.

Diana moves a bit, and it forces him to slip a second finger inside her. She is warm and wet and woman. Her small movements turn into soft strokes as she moves back and forth. Jerry follows her lead, slowly dipping and withdrawing his fingers like a wave.

His thumb is just aimlessly grasping for somewhere to lean on as his two other fingers work between her wet fertility, and he feels a bud-like body just above her depths that he rubs the thumb against. He isn't sure if that's what triggers it, but Diana is now stifling her cries (of pleasure, he hopes) by mouthing his shirt. 

When the explosion comes, Jerry is glad (or is he?) that it isn't his. Instead the woman in his lap lets out of shriek that even his shirt cannot muffle. His fingers (and most of his hand) really are covered with the moist, sticky results. 

When he pulls his hand back as Diana breathes heavily into his chest, Jerry is momentarily startled by the white, vicious substance that blankets his hand. It really looks similar to **his** lusty explosion. **_Hm … women are not that different after all_ **, he concludes. 

He stares hard at the substance for a good minute before he pulls out his handkerchief to wipe it off. He worries that thoughts of smelling or tasting it is too risky and creepy, but really is it wrong to question how your girl tastes? He shoves those thoughts aside to attend to Diana.

"Are you ok?" he asks. 

She is still trying to slow down her breath, but she manages to admit, "I lied."

Jerry's heart skip a bit. "About what?"

"In the barn. At the Cuthberts," she clarified. "The night Anne and I came back from school."

 **_What had she said?_ **Jerry racks his brain for their conversation that night. Luckily, he didn't have to, because Diana continues, "I said that kisses were the most exquisite feeling, but what … this … what just happened was pretty damn good."

He chuckles.

"What if … there are other things that feel amazing, but we would never know since we have not tried them yet?" she rants on.

He laughs. "Should we try everything then?" He means it as an innocuous statement, but the way she tucks her hair behind her ear and pulls away makes Jerry wonders what he could have said to bring offense.

Diana rises to her feet, suddenly shy. "I should go home," she says, focusing on rearranging her dress.

"You should come to the picnic," Jerry suggests instead, trying to rise up as smoothly as possible, which is hard to do still nursing a hard-on.

"Picnic?" She finally meets his eyes again.

"My family will be having a picnic today, since the weather is so nice. You should come. They like you."

"I like them." Diana bites the inside of her lips as she thinks. "Ok."

 **_Well she didn't need much convincing_ **, Jerry thinks. "You should go first," he says in an attempt to be chivalrous. "I don't want anyone to see us." Besides, he has business in his pants to take care of before he can walk properly again. 

Diana nods, patting her hair back into place. "Do I look okay?"

Jerry shakes his head. "No …"

She gasps. "What—"

"You look amazing!"

She lightly punches him and then supplies a gentle kiss to ease his pain. "I will see you in a bit."

Jerry nods his promise, waiting until she is out of sight to take care of his bulging lust. 

When he returns to the front of the hall minutes later, only Remy is there, looking worried. 

Before Jerry could actually thank his brother for waiting for him and hear Remy complain about his lateness, he is stopped by the look of desperation in Rem's eye.

" _Jerry!_ " Remy bellows.

" _What's going on?_ " Jerry asks. 

" _I, uh—I uh—had, uh, relations with Jolie_."

Jerry blinks slowly as he deals with the information. Remy and Jolie had had … sex? " _You finally talked to her_ ," he attempts to joke.

" _I haven't!_ " Remy shouts.

Jerry is quick to cover his brother's mouth with a hand, even though they are virtually alone, to whisper, " _What!_ "

Remy understands to keep his voice low. " _We, uh_ — _I, uh—I was going to, but—but—I didn't know what to say_."

Jerry wants to tell his brother that he's not making any sense. " _So how did it … progress_?"

" _Well, after Mass, I was going to talk to her. I followed her behind the hall to … I lost her._ "

 ** _Behind_** **_the hall?_** thought Jerry. **_Where Diana and I were_** _—_ He swallows hard. **_What had Remy seen?_**

But Remy is still talking. " _But after a few minutes, she came back. And … and she was upset. Really upset. I started to, uh, ask her what was wrong, and she_ **_kissed_ ** _me! And, uh, then it just_ **_happened_ ** _._ "

Jerry raises an eyebrow. He knows from countless one-on-one conversations with his father that while things do just "happen," they don't just **happen** . Now he wonders if Remy had been listening at all during **his** sessions with their father.

" _And then afterwards, she just, uh,_ **_left_ ** _."_ Remy bites his bottom lip. _"I, uh, dirtied her. She's never … Mon Dieu, what if she's pregnant? I_ **_have_ ** _to marry her!_ "

This conversation is diving into deep levels of ridiculousness.

“ _Remy, take a deep breath._ ” Jerry places a hand on both sides of his brother's shoulder. " _I'll talk to her._ "

Rem's eyes widen in panic. " _And say what_?"

" _And say that you want to court her properly. And nobody has to hear about the… incident._ " More like **the tryst** , really. Remy obviously wasn't paying attention during Papa's stem/soil conversation. 

" _She will keep her reputation_ ," Jerry pledges. Reputation is important to a woman's social standing. Which is why he has to figure out what Jolie saw he and Diana do.

Remy looks doubtful but he nods.

The walk towards home is quiet. Remy is still fidgeting over his mistake and Jerry infers just enough to know that Remy doesn't know anything about Diana. He would have to visit the Cotes to talk to Jolie (and avoid Jenny's matchmaking while he is there).

Luckily, when Jerry and Remy come upon the Baynard picnic in the field just outside the Cabin, the Cotes are already there. Jenny and Jean, and of course, Jolie are all sprawl across a blanket, chatting amicably.

Diana is there also, but her attention is being held by Jacques.

Jerry slowly walks over to Jolie, shooting a look over his shoulder occasionally at Remy who is trailing behind.

Jolie is sitting with Jenny and Jean, but has a faraway stare when Jerry comes upon her. She doesn't notice him until he speaks. " _Jolie? May I speak with you?_ "

Jenny smiles gleefully when Jolie rises to her feet and Jerry pulls her out of earshot.

" _Did you see_?" Jerry isn't sure he wants to voice it.

" _You and the Protestant_?" Jolie scoffs the last word like it's a curse. " _Of course._ _Are you afraid that I will tell everyone what you were doing_?"

Jerry shakes his head. " _Remy told me—_ "

Jolie clutches her heart. " _Mon Dieu! Have you come to threaten me_?"

" _No, actually, this isn't about me_ ," Jerry whispers. " _Remy wants to marry you._ "

Her eyes widen and she looks over to where Remy is standing, slowly panicking. " _What!_ " she spits out.

" _That's what I said._ "

" _Everybody is going to know_!" 

" _Remy never could keep a secret_ ," Jerry attempts to joke, but the look on Jolie's face tells him that she is nowhere near laughter. Only when he promises, " _he's not going to say anything_ ," does Jolie relax a bit. 

" _But_?" She is still ill at ease.

Jerry isn't sure that this solution is the best, but he proposes it anyway. " _How about you let him court you?_ "

" _I don't even_ **_like_ ** _him._ "

" _Not even a bit? You … kissed … him._ " And did other things with him, if Jerry is not mistaken in his understanding.

Jolie makes a face. " _Because he was there._ " Well, that somehow explains things. And doesn't. " _And … I was upset when I_ **_saw_ ** _you. Jenny made me believe that you liked me back._ "

" _I'm sorry_ ," Jerry says, glancing at his feet. He had led her on in some ways. He should have been firm in his dismissal. " _But Remy, he really does like you._ "

Jolie frowns. _"But he never says anything._ "

Meanwhile, Jerry can't get him to shut up. " _Please? Give him a chance?_ "

After a heavy sigh, Jolie nods slowly.

With a smile, Jerry signals to his brother to come closer.

Remy looks relieved as he walks over. " _Hi, I'm Remy,_ " he greets, reaching for a handshake.

Jolie ignores his hand. " _I know that._ "

" _Bien_ ." He shoves his hand into his pockets, reaching for another topic. " _So, you're a good ... kisser._ "

Jolie shoots a look of exasperation at Jerry.

" _Remy, maybe don't talk about … earlier,_ " Jerry suggests. " _Just … ask her what she likes._ "

Remy takes the advice right away. " _What do you like_?"

" _I like to cook,_ " Jolie supplies. 

" _I like to eat!_ " he replies almost enthusiastically.

Jerry cringes, but Jolie laughs despite herself.

" _Did you cook any of the food at Jenny's blanket_?" Remy asks. 

Jolie nods. " _Most of them_ ," she admits. 

" _Do you mind if I tried any?_ " Remy inquires.

Jolie is surprised, but nods. " _Of course_." She leads Remy towards the blanket in question. 

Remy shoots a wink at Jerry as he walks away. " _Thanks_ ," he mouths.

Jerry is just happy that everything progressed smoothly and he returns to where the blanket where Jacques, Isa, and Diana are gathered.

Diana is ready with a question. "What is going on?"

"My brother Remy is in love with Jolie," explains Jerry, "but can't say two words to her."

"Well, that is a sharp contrast from you," says Diana, "who is quite the flirt."

Jacques laughs. 

"What is 'flirt?'" Io asks.

Jacques tries to explain to Io while Jerry takes advantage of the distraction to lean into Diana and whisper, "Only because I've always known that you liked me."

Diana makes a face. "Wow, you are arrogant!" she says in mock anger. Her face then softens into a smile. "Did you play matchmaker?" 

When Jerry nods, she adds, "You are also sweet." 

"See? How can you **not** like me?" Jerry asks in a hushed tone. 

The rest of the picnic passes without incident, though Diana for the first time tries _pets de soeur_ , brown sugar filled pastries. "Sister's farts?" she translates to Jerry. 

"Don't think of everything in English," he warns. "Just enjoy."

"But the name is so silly."

Jerry can only smile and shake his head at **her** silliness. It keeps him chuckling long after the picnic, and after he's walked Diana home, and after he's headed back to Green Gables, and until he closes his eyes to sleep. He even wakes up smiling because Diana is still on his mind. Just before dawn, he is outside making quick work of his laundry and still smiling intermittently. 

He finishes up and begins his duties on the farm, all in a happy mood. He stumbles into the kitchen, where Marilla and Anne are cooking breakfast and greets them with a cheerful, "Good morning!"

"Morning, Jerry," Marilla returns. 

Anne, on the other hand, is somber. "Of all the mornings in existence, this is the one that is the least good, unfortunately."

His friend is always overly dramatic, and Jerry is about to point that out when his eyes happen upon the newspaper on the table. The Cuthberts always brought home the paper from church: it is a mishmash of the creative works of schoolchildren, tethered together with actual newsworthy stories about the residents of Avonlea. Every now and then, a gem (or a hard rock, depending on its audience) is found in the pages. Today (and rather yesterday's front page) is such a piece. 

Jerry inhales a deep breath, as he picks up the paper for a closer look. His heart is pounding so wildly that it is overwhelming whatever Anne is droning on about.

He is out of the door before he has finished reading the story, a solitary destination in mind. "Diana!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longest chapter ever. Why does Jerry think so much?


	6. Somedays must be dark and sad and dreary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes she doesn’t have anything to say; that's when she has more than enough to write.

Running into Jerry on Sunday is serendipitous. Well, as much as one could describe the act of going to his family home and participating in a sacred ritual as mere happenstance. She had hoped to see him there, so she could deliver bad news in person—that she is to be engaged and their days of frivolous frolicking were coming to an end. Maybe they could assign her birthday as a deadline of sorts to part amicably.

**No,** Diana argues with herself on the way to the Baynard cabin on Sunday morning, **today** **is the last day. A day or three more will make it harder. You can't hurt Jerry like this.**

Then Froi grabs her hand, and the rest of Baynards grabs her attention, until Mass begins and there is no time left to talk. 

Lisette sings like an angel. 

Diana finally finds a chance after Mass and pulls Jerry aside to  **talk** , but the words are lost to his boyish charm, and she kisses him instead. She cannot stop kissing him.

And then they… And then he… And then **she**... Diana blushes, thinking about it. **This is not** **what good Christian girls do.** If her mother ever found out… Diana grins despite herself. Being with him gives her immense pleasure.

She falls asleep dreaming wonderful dreams of Jerry Baynard and wakes filled with desire. Despite the lateness (or earliness) of the hour, she finds inspiration to write. She gets out of bed and lights a candle to pen these thoughts, but chuckles when her hands grip the feather as she remembers how naughty  **his** fingers had been—and how she had let him.

**How did he know that he would give so much pleasure?** Diana stares at her fingers, wondering if she could provide adequate titillation.

She sinks back onto the bed, legs slightly apart. Divesting of her undergarments, her mind wanders back to Jerry. More specifically, his actions, which had brought her great excitement.

Her fingers stroll through the tuft of hair guarding her privates, then slips her middle finger into the expanse between her legs. Almost immediately, she feels an onset of arousement in her loins.

**Okay, this is certainly enjoyable** , she muses as she encourages the finger to slip deeper, mimicking the slow rhythm that Jerry had possessed. She is already wet, though she bemoans that her fingers aren't as long as his.  **Surely he went deeper.**

She adds the pointer finger into the foray, increasing the speed of her thrusts as she did so.  **Oh, this is really, really good.**

Jerry had done something more with his thumb. He had flicked the thumb around the opening of the crevice of her womanhood, and… Diana gasps. There is a small protruded mound just before the valley between her legs that reacts more aggressively to being flicked. She continues her discovery by keeping with the ebbs and flow of her fingers.

The pleasure is so overwhelming that she leans her head back and, through her moans, manages to whisper one word, "Jerry."

"Diana!" comes an unexpected response. The word isn't simply part of her fantasies. Jerry's voice is loud and clear and  **here**.

"Jerry?" She is confused.  **Is he… outside the window?** A pebble lightly grazes the windows as if it in response to her question. 

Diana bolts upright. Her room lies on the second story. Did he climb up? She crosses the room with haste to open the window. In the near darkness, she barely makes out the pacing person below, but it is indeed Jerry.

"I need to talk to you," he whispers in a great undertone that carries across as if he had shouted.

Obviously, urgent matters are afoot. "Okay," she agrees with no forethought. They are running out of options to privacy. They couldn't find reprieve in the Barry barn, for Father may or may not spot them again. The woods nearby are quiet and could provide them some forewarning should anyone happen upon them.

"I'll meet you by the bridge to Green Gables," she says. The same bridge where she had broken his heart to pieces over a year ago.

Jerry nods quickly and disappears from view.

Diana closes the window and dashes to the washroom to clean her hands of the little adventure she had had before Jerry's arrival and wash her face of sleepiness. Should she brush her hair as well? 

"Jerry is waiting," she says as she grabs a dress from her wardrobe.

She has taken off her nightgown when she makes a realization. Just where are her undergarments? She shuffles about the room, trying to make the least amount of noise as possible. She doesn’t want to wake the whole house—if they were not already awake by Jerry's antics.

She grabs fresh undergarments and hastily throws on the dress. Her shoes and overcoat are in the closet by the front door, so Diana is careful to sneak downstairs on her tiptoes to the foyer. Should Father awaken and begin his bellowing, there would be no appeasing him.

A few more seconds and both shoes are on her feet. She throws on her coat as she slips out the door and sprints through the woods.

The sun barely breaks through the woods when she catches sight of Jerry at the bridge. His expression is impassive, but she can tell by the way his lips quiver that he's distressed. Jerry wears his heart on his sleeve, with no need nor understanding of deception.

"What's the matter?" She deposits a small kiss on his cheek and, taking advantage of the situation, cradles said cheek with a hand.

He maintains a facade of control, but his voice cracks slightly with his words. "Are you leaving me?" The word 'again' is never voiced but definitely implicit. 

"What do you mean?" Best she lays his worries to rest for now.

Jerry slides open his jacket where a bundle of papers hides. She unfurls it to reveal yesterday's paper. " **The railroad comes to Avonlea!** " she reads the headline. She raises an eyebrow. "What has this got to do with us?"

"The Wright Freight Company bought an extensive amount of land in and around Avonlea," he explains. "It's quite possible that they are extending the railroad to Avonlea."

Diana shrugs. "What would you have me say?" she asks. "Avonlea is not big enough a town to warrant such investment."

But Jerry is not mollified. "The article suggests that this turn of events is due to the upcoming engagement of one of the Wright sons to the daughter of a prominent member of the community."

Diana forces a chuckle. "It is pure conjecture!" she lies blatantly. 

"Is it? Why was he visiting you last week then!" Jerry shouts. "Simply to tour your garden?"

Confronted, Diana can hide no longer. "I am to be engaged to Fred Wright." Saying the words out loud only sours the conversation.

"But yesterday…  **yesterday** ..." Jerry breathes heavily, trying to get the words out. "Did you know yesterday?"

**Yesterday when they had…?** Diana swallows her thoughts. Mortified, she nods slowly.

Jerry closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, as if he is both relieved and reluctant. " _Which one of you is real_?" he prompts in French.

She isn't sure she understands the question. "Wh-what do you mean?"

" _There's the girl who holds my little brother's hand for hours, who wants a amoureux from l'amoureux, who tells me that she loves me… _ " He sighs. " _I don't understand you. If you knew yesterday, why didn't you say anything?_ "

" _There was nothing to say_ ," Diana concludes.

" _I can think of many, many words you_ ** _could_** _say._ "

**__**

Diana could think of many herself, but none would bring Jerry the diversion he seeks. She says nothing instead.

**__**

Jerry, for this part, is not so easily defeated. "Diana,  _ let's just run away together! _ " 

**__**

Her eyes widen.  **What a preposterous fantasy!**

**__**

" _We can go_ ," he continues, grabbing her hand.  " _I have a bit of money saved. Take the train anywhere you want to go. Even better if we take one manufactured by the Wrights. Where do you want to go, ma amour? Quebec City? Montreal? _ "

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**__**

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'My love,' he had called her, as if she needed another reason to be hesitant about the future.

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**__**

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She glances into his eyes. She can tell that he is actually waiting for a reply. "New York!" she quickly supplies.

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**__**

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"New York City!" He laughs, but then she notices a slight waver. "That's as far away as Toronto, isn't it?"

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**__**

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Diana nods. "But it is south, not west." 

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**__**

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Jerry's brow frowns. "How long will it take to get there?"

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**__**

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"I do not remember," says Diana. "My family went when I was a bit younger. I think it took five days or a week."

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**__**

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Jerry seems determined. "We can go."

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**__**

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She shakes her head and lets out a chuckle. "No, we can not."

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**__**

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"You don't have to worry about money," he promises. "You said you didn't need a big house."

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**__**

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"Jerry, I have another year until I get a teaching license from Queens." She would teach young children in order to afford more education. At least, that is the plan to get from under her father's control and his money.

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**__**

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"We'll go next summer then," Jerry is saying. "I can wait."

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**__**

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"And then I want to study some more," she adds. "At least, until I get a college degree."

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**__**

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"There will be lots of opportunities in the city," Jerry says. "I won't stop you from doing whatever you want to do."

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**__**

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No, he would not. Diana is sure that Jerry would give her the stars if she so desires, but that is the problem. "Will you be ok with never seeing your family again?" Diana asks the pointed question. "Never hearing your mother sing at Mass, or holding Froi's hand, or laughing at Jacques' jokes, or teaching Iolanthe some interesting English words—not finding out if Rem ever marries the girl he loves?" 

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**__**

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With each mention of a family member, Jerry's face darkens a bit more, but he does not waver. "I'm fine with anything, Diana," he assures.

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**__**

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Diana pulls him into a hug, wrapping her arms tightly around his body and burying her face into his chest. He smells of the farm—the fields and the animals and the sweat—and of quintessentially Jerry.

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**__**

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"Okay," she strains to say a promise she ultimately has no plans of keeping. "We can go."

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**__**

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When Diana trots back home, the sun is fully above the horizon. Sneaking back in is not as easy as sneaking out though, and she is accosted as soon as she enters the kitchen.

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**__**

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"Diana Barry!" screeches her mother. "Wherever are you off to?"

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**__**

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Diana lets out a sigh of relief at her mother's directional mistake. Maybe she could use this opportunity to sneak out again. "I am actually hoping to join Anne for breakfast," she continues the misconception.

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**__**

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"You two spend so much time together; one might mistake you for lovers!" Minnie May adds.

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**__**

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"I have not seen Anne all week," protests Diana. Although she is not quite sure when she saw Anne last, she knows that it has been far too long.

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**__**

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"You spent the entirety of yesterday with her," Mother says.

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**__**

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Diana blinks slowly as she recalls the lie. Was she supposedly in Anne's company when she was at Mass yesterday? "Right!" she says. "It was last week."

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**__**

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"Yesterday was Sunday," Mother clarifies. "It began this week."

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**__**

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Diana made a face. She will have to stay in to perpetuate the falsehood.

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**__**

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Luckily, Anne shows up right after noon, alongside Ruby, Josie, and Tillie. Diana is happy to be accosted by her friends as she is in the middle of entertaining her mother's friends when they arrive.

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**__**

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"Did someone die?" Mother asks the question that has been on the tip of Diana's tongue when she realizes that her friends are all dressed in black.

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**__**

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Ruby sighs heavily. "All of Diana's hopes and dreams," she says. 

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**__**

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"Anne  **insisted** we wear black," Josie declares with a twirl of her hair.

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**__**

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As soon as Diana leads them away to the parlor, Anne launches into a diatribe. "That horrible newspaper is spreading untruths about you and Mr. Wright, Diana. We must contact a lawyer at once and see what can be done about this perjury."

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**__**

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"If it is all lies, why are we wearing black?" Josie wonders.

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"Maybe it is fashionable," Tillie says.

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**__**

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" **Please.** Anne would not know fashion if it were to smack her in the face!" Josie gripes.

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**__**

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"Well, I hope it is untrue," Anne says, ignoring Josie's slight, "but if it is not, we must be prepared."

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**__**

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"Prepared for what?" asks Ruby.

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**__**

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"If it is true, Diana is marrying into the richest family on the Island," Josie voices. "She will be  **fine**."

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**__**

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"Let us hear from Diana herself," suggests Tillie.

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**__**

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All eyes are suddenly on Diana. Anne breaks the silence with a question. "What could have possibly transpired since Tuesday?"

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**__**

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Tuesday! That is when Diana saw Anne last. One mystery solved.

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**__**

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"My father bargained with me," Diana admits. "I will finish school in its entirety, if I consent to marry Mr. Wright." She would not voice those additional minor threats about Jerry's profession.

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**__**

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The ladies all groan.

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"I knew this would happen," Ruby repeats. "I knew this would happen."

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"This is just too morose," mumbles Tilly.

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Josie nods in agreement. She slaps Anne away to pull Diana close. "I know what will cheer you up!" she says enthusiastically. "We will go to Green Gables so you can ogle the farmhand."

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**__**

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Diana stares blankly. "What?"

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**__**

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"Oh, come on," says Josie, "it is an open secret that Jerry loves to flirt with you." He had flirted once or twice in the past, but nothing should have warranted suspicion.

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**__**

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"Lots of boys flirt with Diana!" Anne protests.

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"And she is sure to crush their lust so adamantly," adds Tilly.

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**__**

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Josie places her hand on Diana's shoulder. "But not Jerry."

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"No, she just blushes," Tilly pretends to fan herself, "and looks away." She throws a glance over her shoulder to demonstrate. 

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**__**

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Ruby finally comes to a realization. "She does!"

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"Oh, Diana, there is no harm in flirting back," Josie encourages.

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**__**

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"It would do the heart some good," adds Tilly.

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Josie's face lit up with a thought. "You know what would be better than harmless flirting? An actual summer fling."

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Tilly gasps in mock surprise. "Josie Pye, do not be ridiculous. What are you suggesting?"

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Ruby raises an eyebrow. "That Diana likes Jerry?"

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"And why wouldn't she?" Tilly jeers.

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Josie winks. "He's dashing and strong."

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Tilly leans back in her chair as she is staring at someone of great height. "And  **tall**."

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Anne, who gaped throughout the game, rises to her feet. "Please stop this preposterous act!" she bellows. "You tease and cackle like biddies. Meanwhile, our dear friend's entire life is in shambles. Her heart is breaking, and you solve nothing with your silly games."

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**__**

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Diana is quiet throughout the ordeal as she ruminates that everyone on the planet is aware of her feelings for Jerry.

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"Come, Diana!" Anne calls as she grabs for Diana's hand. She leads the way up the stairs and into Diana's room.

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Diana is nearly to tears as she leans on the closed door. "I am a fool," she declares.

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"You're not," Anne quickly counters. "But just to be sure that I am opposing the right issue, what are you foolish about?"

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"Everyone knows!" Diana cries. "About Jerry and me. We were careless."

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Anne shakes her head. "Well, I would have never found out until Jerry told me."

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Diana cannot keep the vitriol from her tongue. "Your absentmindedness does not lend value to your argument."

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"You think me absentminded?" Anne wonders.

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"Anne, this has nothing to do with you! It never does, but you always happen to place yourself in the centre of everything."

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Anne clenches her fists as she deliberates her next words. "I do have something equally caustic to say, but I am not so petty a person that I would not find your precarious situation a liability to our friendship. That being said, I will take my leave before I say something that we both regret." She pulls open the door, sure to jab Diana with it. "I will call on you tomorrow, when we both find ourselves in better humor." She is out before Diana can say anything.

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Just as well, Anne has quite a volatile temper. 

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Diana inhales loudly.

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The door opens again and jolts Diana. Anne sticks her head in. "I would advise you to speak with Jerry before he leaves for Montreal."

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Diana is intrigued. "What do you mean he is leaving for Montreal?"

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Anne slams the door as she exits.

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The idea of Jerry moving to Montreal must be another one of those imaginary tales that Anne frequently distorts with reality. Maybe. He would have told Diana this morning.

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Diana walks across the room to sit at her writing desk for the second time today. She is finally ready to put her thoughts down to paper. 

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**__**

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**July 1, 1901**

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**Jerry,**

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~~**I did warn you.** ~~

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~~**Why didn't you say anything about Montreal?** ~~

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**~~I like your family. I've even dreamed one day we'd have one as bountiful and joyful of our own.~~ **

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**I'm sorry. I broke your heart. I'm a coward. Don't forgive me so easily.**

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**Diana**

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She cannot send this to Jerry. He would be furious—livid. He would never speak to her again.

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A knock is at the door.

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That silly girl has returned again! Diana stands. "Why even bother knocking, Anne?" she huffs.

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"I am Josie," a voice corrects.

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"Oh. Come in." Diana makes sure to hide evidence of the letter she had been penning as Josie slides into the room.

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She is wringing her hands, looking very contrite. "Diana, I apologize for Tilly's and my mistake earlier. We were only trying to bring a smile to your face." Well, an apology is certainly new for Josie. 

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Diana supposes one good turn deserves another. "I apologize for Anne's and my overreaction earlier. We were focused on the wrong things."

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"No, we were," Josie says. "We should not have made fun of your crush."

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This conversation is not leading where Diana thinks it should. "What?"

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"Here I am being careless with words again," Josie utters. "Oh, I am sorry. Is it love then?"

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How does one answer a question like that?

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"If it is any consolation," Josie continues. "I don't believe Jerry would protest if you were to unabashedly kiss him at any moment."

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Diana should laugh that he does not, but instead she blushes. "Josie!"

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"And you should," Josie adds. "That boy has been trying to get your attention for years."

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"Josie." This time the word is said with a soft giggle.

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"What? You think Fred Wright has stopped kissing other women just because he's engaged, or rather, **about** to be engaged?" Josie rolls her eyes.

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"Actually," Diana closes the distance between the two of them to whisper, "I have kissed Jerry."

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At first she appears scandalized, but then Josie's face breaks into a big grin. "When?"

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"Many, many times. Just yesterday, in fact."

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Josie giggles. "I  **knew** it. You are not nearly as prim and proper as you would like the rest of us to believe. I do not mean it as an insult." She hugs Diana. "I think you should be as you are, do what you want, and kiss who you love."

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Diana pulls out of the hug. "Things would certainly be easier if I do everything my parents say," she admits.

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"Then you would not be studying with us at Queen's. Remember how they were adamant about you going to finishing school last year?"

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**__**

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Was that only a year ago? It feels like such a distant conflict.

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**__**

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She speaks with Josie on unimportant subjects for a bit more before her friend takes her leave, but Diana's thoughts remain on that letter, even as Ruby and Tillie both take turns coming in to apologize. 

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**__**

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She does not continue it until the next morning however, when she wakes with clarity on the choice she must make.

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**July 2, 1901**

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**Jerry,**

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**When you hop on that train to Montreal, you should never look back. You should forget the first time we met and you declared me to be "the prettiest girl in the world", when you could not tell a lie to save Anne's birthday surprise, when we danced at your family's cabin and you caught me in my first lie, when I first kissed you at the County Fair, and all the other times I kissed you. You should forget my broken promises and false wishes.**

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**I, on the other hand, shall wallow in regret forever.**

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (ɔ◔‿◔)ɔ ♥ A message from EhtoZee:  
> Hi, I'm the new co-creator/beta reader. The work is still entirely created by tangential. I'm only here to help. So direct all your compliments to tangential and not me, unless it's like, "wow, sexy grammar."


	7. If you get dismal there is no fair weather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How can one win at chess when he only knows the rules of checkers?

The letter comes on a Thursday. Jerry helps Anne pack—well, really, Anne directs all of his actions—when Marilla strolls in through the open door. "'Jerry Baynard of Green Gables,'" she reads before handing over the document. "There is a letter for you."

"And for me?" Anne asks pointedly. 

"Not a single word from Diana," declares Marilla as she exits.

Anne growls. "It has been a whole month!" she laments. "How could Diana not even consider apologizing for her harsh words? Will we continue to be estranged? I was only doing my best to comfort her. Jerry, am I in the wrong? Do you suppose I should reach out to her first?"

Jerry's attention is mostly focused on the letter in his hands. "I don't know," he says absentmindedly. 

"Has she said anything about me?" 

"We don't really talk about you," he says, tracing the words on the paper. 

"And who is the letter from?" A frown is hinted in her voice, but Jerry can't be bothered to raise his head to verify. 

_Université Laval à Montréal_ , says the imprint carefully inscribed by a rotary press. The weight of the envelope ensures Jerry this isn't some paltry letter, and he is overwhelmed by its importance.

Ever since Mr. Barry brought the school to his attention, Jerry has been rigorously pursuing information on the university: the oldest French higher-level institute on the continent; it is headquartered in Quebec City; the campus in Montreal was opened in 1878, just a few years before he was born. A hint of pride (sprinkled with dashes of fear) overcomes Jerry at the thought of being part of its history.

"Your acceptance letter!" Anne gasps.

"Could also be a rejection letter," Jerry demurs unhappily.

Ever the optimist, Anne claps her hands together. "Could also be an acceptance letter."

Jerry silently debates opening it, unsure if the contents would bring him joy or grief. He finds he doesn't have the courage either way. "Open it!" he orders Anne, passing over the envelope and the responsibility. 

With zeal, Anne sets about her task of ripping into the cover and settles into the letter as if it is a book. " _À Monsieur Jerry Baynard_ ," she begins with enthusiasm. The ardor dies down quickly when she recognizes, "I cannot read it, but I do believe it is good news. It gives an aura of pleasant feelings."

Discouraged, Jerry retrieves the letter and immediately begins to wonder who he could trust to provide him true insight. Diana, really, is the only one who could verify the situation. As usual, when he thinks of her, he can't help the smile that comes to his face.

The last time he had seen her had been two days before at the cabin. She's taken over teaching his siblings for the summer and regimented classes twice-a-week. (How quickly his siblings took to the discipline  **shamed** Jerry, who had been remissly teaching.) In order to accomplish the letter S, she had assigned a poem to memorize. Io, Isa, and Froi have made a song out of it. " **They went to sea in a Sieve, they did; In a Sieve they went to sea**."

Remy and Jolie argued in the doorway of the Cabin. Jacques and Jean regaled Papa and Mama tales of their day while Jenny and Juneau softly chatted. In all the chaos sat Diana. "What lovely voices!" she had said to Jerry.

Jerry silently disagreed and had asked, "What are they singing?"

Diana had chuckled. "Just nonsense." Then Froi had grabbed her hand and pulled her into the clamor. She had quickly joined in the song, " **In a Sieve we'll go to sea**!"

"What are you smiling about?" Anne's voice breaks his musing.

"Just nonsense," Jerry replies with a laugh. He tucks the letter into his pocket and returns to toil on Anne's behalf. She'll be back in school in a couple of days, after all, and no longer an issue.

Unfortunately, that means Diana too will be returning to school. He'll miss her dearly, but he's well aware of the goals she wants to complete. He isn't worried though; next summer will come about soon enough and they'll be in New York City.  **The city where everything happens!** Even the least educated people in PEI have heard about the beauty and pandemonium of the City. Jerry wonders what type of life he and Diana would make there.

Just as he's researched Laval, he's hunted for details on universities for Diana. A great many are in New York, but only few up to her standards. One stands out. 

" **I believe we have made the beginning of an institution which will prove highly beneficial to the poor young men and the poor young women of our country** ," he reads to Diana Thursday evening at the Cabin. 

"What is that?" she wonders.

"An article from the opening of Cornell University," Jerry says. "In Ithaca. It's not in the City, but it's close enough."

"The City?" she repeats.

"New York!" he whispers through gritted teeth.

Diana lets out a huff that sounds a bit derisive, but before she can voice her feelings, Jolie calls her attention. "Diana?  _Could you take a look at what I've written_?"

" _Just a minute_ ," says Diana. She places a hand on Jerry's shoulder. "Later. We will talk later." She returns her attention to where Jolie's seated, along with Isa, Io, and Froi. Jolie only joined the class a couple of weeks ago (despite Remy's protests), but she’s progressing nicely.

Jerry's forced to wait until their makeshift class is over.

"You are doing so well, Jolie," Diana says as Remy bursts into the Cabin in agitation. His ire is the norm since Jolie became one of Diana's students, as he considers education a chore for the rich. 

" _Why are you back again, Diana_?" Remy asks with a raised eyebrow.

" _You've asked that_ _every Tuesday and Thursday_ ," Diana says.

" _I think I liked you better when you said nothing at all_ ," Jolie jokes.

Diana joins in the giggling.

Remy scoffs and folds his arms. " _Do you want me to be quiet because I disagree with you?_ " he barks.

" _On the contrary, Remy,_ " says Diana.

" _You should say what you feel_ ," Jolie says, mollifying him.

Remy's anger is all but replaced by surprise. Usually his fights with Jolie end in shouting. " _I don't think—you don't need to learn English_ ," he stammers.

" _I'm sorry that we disagree on that_ ," Jolie returns.

Remy blinks slowly in astonishment. " _Aren't you going to argue_?" he asks.

Jolie shakes her head. " _Of course not_."

Remy's stunned into silence while Jolie sends a wink Diana's way.

Diana winks back and whispers to Jerry, "People are always surprised when you apologize first."

Stunned like Remy, Jerry reasons the women have conspired together.

Diana smiles and gathers her possessions. It's her last day teaching at the Cabin. " _Everyone, I have had the wonderful pleasure of being your teacher this summer_ ," she says, waving goodbye. " _I hope you continue to learn_."

" _Can I write to you_?" Froi asks. 

" _Of course_."

"I write to you too," says Io.

"Me too," adds Isa.

"I would be delighted," Diana laughs. 

After many hugs and tears, goodbyes and kisses, Jerry finally gets a chance with Diana alone when he walks her home. At first, they don't say anything, content to enjoy each other's company by simply holding hands. Then Jerry recalls his letter.

"Diana, I got a letter today," he tells her, pulling it out of his pocket.

Her eyebrows rise in silent inquiry as he hands it over. " _Université Laval à—Montréal_ ," she reads. She meets his eyes. "Are you moving to Montreal?"

He smiles. "Open it."

" _Avec plaisir,"_ Diana begins, _"je vous souhaite la bienvenue dans notre prestigieuse et bien-aimée université_."

The good news brings a huge smile to Jerry's face. "I got in!"

"You did not know?"

Attempting to fake nonchalance, Jerry shrugs. "I mean, why wouldn't I get in?"

Diana smiles and continues to read silently. "There is a stipulation," she admits. "They want you to participate in the pre-collegiate education program. Most students complete preparatory education in about 2 years."

Jerry frowns. "Does that mean _ — _ we'd try to go to New York a year later?"

"Forget about New York. That will be two years of preparatory school, followed by four years of college education. _Jerry_ , that is a total of **six** years!" Jerry can't tell if she's angry or just agitated.

"I don't have to go to Montreal," he declares, eliminating that option with a slight tinge of sorrow. "It was just your father's idea anyway."

Diana's eyes widen. "Did my father tell you to apply to this school?"

"It doesn't matter," says Jerry. "We have plans."

"We do **not**!" Diana insists.

Jerry's sure the two of them used to be on the same page. "You and me—we're moving to Ithaca, so we don't have to deal with your father making decisions for us."

"Ithaca?" Diana repeats the word with unfamiliarity. 

"Where Cornell University is, remember?" Jerry's trying not to lose the sight of the goal, but the current dialogue's convincing him otherwise. "They accept women as students."

Diana's chuckle is absent of mirth. "I have never heard of this university!"

"You don't **have** to go there," Jerry says, "but at least look into it. Cornell's a great school and you can study whatever you want to. It's your choice."

" **My** choice?" She seems as if the idea is foreign to her. Jerry wonders how little chances she's been given to be the one making decisions. 

Jerry nods.

She hands back the letter. "If it is my choice, I would choose Montreal."

Jerry blinks in surprise. "What do you mean?"

Diana sighs, cupping his face and enunciating every word. "I mean, you should go to Montreal and you should study 6 years at _Laval_."

Jerry's still confused. "What about New York?"

"New York!" she says exasperatedly. "That is just silly aspiration. But Montreal is real, and within your grasp. Think of all the opportunities you will have!"

Jerry ponders the implications. "I don't want to think about them," he admits. "What about us?" His voice is small and uncertain as his head whirls about in disputing emotions. "Will you wait for me?"  **Can she even promise that?**

Diana wraps her arms around him and pulls him close. "Oh _Jerry_ , that should never be a stipulation."

"Can you promise me?" The question is weak in the face of Jerry's growing doubt. 

Diana doesn't reply.

"Why can't you promise me?" he presses. 

Again, there's no reply. Instead she tightens her grip and buries her face into his shirt.

He'd normally allow her a moment of respite, but summer is at its end, and they're short on time. "Diana!" he cries, grabbing her shoulders and pushing away to look upon her face. "Can you  **please** answer me?"

She immediately buries her face in her sleeve as a low sob escapes her. Her next words are a jumble of feelings. "I cannot make any promises, but I do love you. You believe that, right?"

"I don't know," he confesses. Sometimes Jerry wonders if he is the only one who  **feels** anything. "Were we ever going to go to New York?"

Diana answers by hastily wiping her tears and uncovering her face.

"So it was another lie," Jerry realises.

"It was **not** a lie," she counters. "It was a fervent hope."

Hope is, in other words, a lie. "Things like, 'let's experience everything together,' and, 'you make me feel the most exquisite feelings,' are those hopes too?" Jerry asks. 

The rhetorical question needs no answer.

Diana's more brilliant and has definitely analysed the situation in depth, but he's simpler. "If we love each other," he wonders, "why can't we just **be** together?"

"You know why," says Diana. She's at least looking into his eyes when she confronts him with her next words. "You are right about my father. He will never accept you."

Jerry thinks of his interactions with Mr. Barry and the minute details bring upon a revelation: He'd already lost the very moment they'd met. "I'm poor, dumb, and Catholic," he declares, defiant in defeat. **And I can only solve one of those by going to Montreal.**

Mr. Barry orchestrated everything: Montreal, Diana's engagement, possibly all of Jerry's entanglement in the Barry family this summer. Mr. Barry’s ensuring Jerry's well aware of where the lines are and which ones could be crossed. As Jerry attempts to understand the boundaries, he tries to reason why Barry even bothered.

"He knows, doesn't he?" he asks plainly. "About us."

Diana's halfheartedly nods.

The equation is finally solved. Jerry is reconciled— **relieved** , really—to the reality; he thought the biggest hurdle is figuring out how to provide Diana more than his love. 

The packet comes on a Friday. Jerry's tending to the fields alongside Anne when Matthew, who's a rarity in the fields because of his declining health, comes over. "Package for Jerry," he announces as he hands over the item.

Anna raises an eyebrow. "And for me?"

"No letters. No packages."

Anne frowns. Jerry, on the other hand, wonders what else trouble  _ Laval _ has sent.

"But I do believe one Miss Diana Barry's coming to call," adds Matthew.

Anne's eyes shoot up. "Did you catch a glimpse of her?" she asks.

"On my way back from the post office," Matthew admits. "She'll be here shortly."

Anne can't keep the squeal from escaping. "Jerry, do you mind if I—"

Jerry shakes his head. "Go ahead; I can do the rest."

Anne's already halfway across the yard before he finishes his statement.

"What have you got there?" Matthew wonders.

" _New student packet_ ," Jerry reads. He glances up at his boss, who's at times his friend. "I got accepted to a university in Montreal."

Matthew nods. "Job well done, son."

"I have a little brother who can help you," Jerry says because of what his vacancy means. "And two sisters." Froi, Isa, and Io would surely love the opportunity to be of service.

Matthew smiles. "Best you tell them they've been hired."

When Jerry lumbers to the Cabin to deliver the news in person, Jacques greets him with a punch, Juneau with indifference, and Remy with a casual question, " _so you live here now_?"

Even Io explains, " _Jerry doesn't come to see us; he comes to see Diana_."

Jerry mentally slaps himself. Surely he hasn't always been this obvious. 

" _Everyone knows_ **_that_** ," Papa says as if he read Jerry's mind.

" _Diana isn't here now_ ," Maman says, a glint of hope and humour in her eyes. " _Maybe he really did come to see us_." She's the only one who remembers to give him a hug.

His family responds by cheering when Jerry explains the job opening, frowning when he tells them about Montreal, and crying when they can't convince him to stay. Froi wraps his entire body around Jerry's legs and won't let go. 

" _Are you a boy or a monkey_?" Jerry wonders.

" _I'm not letting you go_!" is Froi's battle cry. True to his rally, he falls asleep at Jerry's feet and Jerry has to carry him to his pallet. Hours later, combat halts because most of his siblings lost to sleep, and Jerry gets a quiet moment with Juneau.

The quietest one of his siblings, Juneau always tends to ask the hardest questions. He throws a, " _Why do you_ have _to go_?" so stealthily the question knocks Jerry off his feet. 

As he sinks into the nearest chair, Jerry pauses for introspection (and to ensure his parents are out of earshot). **Why does he have to go to Montreal?** The idea takes him through many emotions. One, he's angry: Mr. Barry wants him as far away from Diana as possible. Two, he's afraid: he's never been anywhere off the Island. Three, he's worried: Six years is too long to dedicate to anything. Four, he's convinced: If he doesn't succeed in Montreal, he can find something else, do something else, or be someone else. 

Juneau's still waiting for an answer, so Jerry supplies the one sitting across the room. " _When I see Papa and Maman, all I see is wasted potential_ ," he admits in hushed tones.

" _What are you saying_?" Juneau asks, affronted. " _You don't think they're happy_?"

" _I _ **_know_ ** _ they're happy; that's why I don't want to be like them_."

Juneau's eyebrows fold in confusion. " _I don't—understand_."

Jerry's trying to explain simple and compound interest to Matthew again. ("'Simple' is always based on the original investment; 'compound' is based on adding the earned interest to the original investment.") Everything makes perfect sense to him, but the other party just can't comprehend. How else can he simplify it?

Diana told him about the opera once. Jerry could almost see the darkened theatre around him. " _Maman has the best voice on the Island _ ," he says. _ "Can you imagine her on a stage in New York? _ " A small hiccup escapes Jerry as he mentions the city. _ "Or _ — _ or Paris. _ "

A hint of understanding passes over Juneau's face. Jerry silently praises himself when Juneau opens his mouth to protest, " _But Maman doesn't like it when everyone looks at her. She wouldn't even sing at Mass if Father Guidry_ —"

Jerry throws up his hands in frustration. " _Bien_! Compound interest is hard!" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I was witty and poetic, but the sea-in-a-sieve poem ("The Jumblies") that Diana and her students sing actually belongs to Edward Lear. It's from _Nonsense Songs, Stories, Botany, and Alphabets_ , published 1871.
> 
> To think, way back in chapter 3, Jerry actually thought simple and compound interest was easy!
> 
> Oh, and yes, the summary is from a boast in Nicki Minaj's "Chun Li."  
>  **You play checkers, couldn't beat me playing chess**  
> 


	8. dear me, let us be elegant or die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diana hosts a party—to disastrous results.

The December air is crisp. Although the wind whipping across the balcony has no remedy, the bottle Josie keeps passing around provides a brief antidote for the chill.

"Oh it burns a great deal!" Ruby complains after she's taken her first sip.

"Vodka, Ruby, not raspberry cordial," Josie says as expected of her unique brand of conceit.

Ruby attempts to cough away the pain. "I shall not have any more, thank you," she declares. 

"Me neither," says Tillie, covering her nose. "You can smell it from Avonlea."

"Nor I," Anne adds. "It is such misery to swallow."

Diana laughs. At first, she convinces herself that Tillie's only objection stems from the fear of discovery, and Ruby should be first to give up on the rebellion, is funny. But when she is still laughing a full minute later, everything about the situation is an absolute comedy: she is outside in the chilly air at her  **own** engagement party, slipping smuggled Russian liquor with her best friends while the tables inside are overflowing with the best wine. 

Jerry is gone to Montreal. He never writes—at least not to Diana. She has written a letter every week since he left, but he has not replied. Anne, on the other hand, receives plenty of letters about his adventures in the city.

Everything is her fault, really, because she told the truth when she should have said something deceptive like, "yes, we can go to New York!" or "Have another promise, Jerry."

"Lying makes everything easier," Diana mumbles to herself.

Her friends all stare but Josie is the only who dares to inquire. "Diana, are you okay?" 

"I am **fine** , thank you very much. I am marrying into the wealthiest family on the Island." The ironic echo of her friend's earliest words is enough to bring a hush to the group. "I will have another drink," Diana says, reaching for the bottle.

Ruby is happy to cast it away and grab the conversation. "I think Moody will propose by Christmas," she says brightly, trying to divert attention from Diana's gloom.

"Did you figure that all on your own?" Josie asks, vodka and sarcasm laced upon her tongue.

Ruby continues, "He's asked for his grandmother's ring!"

"And why are you so happy exactly?" Josie continues assaulting an unsuspecting Ruby. "I would kill myself if I was to be saddled with the name 'Mrs. Spurgeon' for the rest of my days."

Ruby gasps, her big blue eyes wide as if she has finally caught on to Josie's attack.

"Ruby, do not listen," Anne assures. "You and Moody make a great couple."

"Of course you think it is romantic,  **Mrs. Blythe** ," Josie says caustically.

"I suppose  **Mrs. Gardiner** does not believe in romance," Diana says in an effort to defend Anne. She takes another swig of the fiery liquid.

Josie makes an unrefined sound that sounds like something between laughter and a scoff. "I pilfered vodka,  **Mrs. Wright** ; that is the extent of our relationship."

"Just as well!" says Ruby. "Roy Gardiner is a philanderer."

Josie rolls her eyes. "Ruby, what have I told about what rumours can do to a person?"

"It is  **not** a rumour!" Ruby protests adamantly. "I heard it from Jane Andrews, who heard it from Pris Grant that he flirted with her close friend for  **months** without making any declarations."

Josie grabs the bottle of vodka to partake. "That is  **definition** of a rumour, you stupid girl." 

"I am not a  **stupid** girl!" Ruby argues.

"A stupid woman, then, who proliferates rumours!"

Diana wonders for a brief moment why Josie is being so deliberately abrasive, but the girl actually showed up to the party on the arm of the aforementioned Mr. Gardiner.  **Could they actually be courting?**

"Josie, enough!" Diana cries. "Tonight we will celebrate  **my** misery alone; it is my damn party!"

"I am not miserable." Josie's protests fall upon deaf ears, especially as she chokes on the last word.

Tillie, who is being uncharacteristically quiet, suddenly says, "I had a thought. One day, we will all be someone's missus." She gasps. "Will I be Mrs. Peters then?" Lionel Peters is only one of Tillie's three current beaus, but he is the most promising. 

"With your flightiness, you will be Mrs. Peters for only a while before moving on to being someone else," Josie mutters.

"Josie!" Diana says.

"Vodka brings out the worst in me," is Josie's half-attempted excuse.

Diana did not get a chance to call her out for lying, because the balcony doors open. Quickly Josie hides the bottle while the other women put on an air of normalcy. 

"Six months until graduation!" Tillie pipes on the cheer to fool whomever is entering their temporary sanctuary.

"Diana?" Mother's querulous shrill cuts through the air. "Why are you out here? Many guests are vying for your acquaintance."

Diana sighs. "Coming, Mother!"

While Diana is grateful for the warmth and the grandiosity of the Wright house, she is filled with dread that it will someday be her home. Its walls are overly garnished with expensive paintings and storied trinkets. Pride and wealth radiates in every room, especially the state room, where Mother pulls Diana to introduce a guest.

"You remember Walter Mills, Dr. Mills' son," Mother says of the young man with dark hair and brown eyes hidden behind a pair of spectacles. "He is studying to become an architect."

Diana simply smiles, as she does not care to clarify that she does not actually remember. "Mr. Mills."

Faulty memory on her part does not stop Mr. Mills from claiming familiarity. "Diana," he says as he kisses her hand, "I do confess that I was most disappointed upon my return to hear that my good friend, Fred, had already claimed you."

Diana has heard many such sentiments today, so she chooses to focus on the only part of his speech that is not tired. "Where have you returned from, Mr. Mills?" she inquires. 

"As Mrs. Barry mentioned, I am currently studying in New York," he says. "At Cornell."

The single word brings Jerry to the forefront of her mind.  **Just as well** , Diana thinks with a chuckle. She has not thought of him in a whole ten minutes. "In Ithaca?" she asks Mr. Mills.

"You know of my school?"

"Indeed, Mr. Mills, it is one of the best schools I have heard of!" Her smile widens. "Would you tell me more?"

"About Cornell? Certainly!" 

Her mother's glare is ignored as Diana takes a tour about the house on Mr. Mills' arm. He has such wonderful tales of Ithaca and escapades in New York City (sterilized, of course, for the lady's ear).

"Walter, if I did not know better, I would think you were  **absconding** with my fiancee!" The voice interrupts what was a happy conversation. 

"Fred, you fool, she is merely after the bounty in my mind," Walter laughs. "I will return her to you." He releases Diana. 

"A dance, my dear?" asks Fred, without the option to refuse. He holds out his arm.

She smiles tightly, a manufactured one she usually wears around Fred. The dance, she discovers  as they whirl about the room, is another excuse for Fred to show her off. Like the house, he takes every chance to display opulence. 

"You remain the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," Fred says unprompted. 

During the dance, he rambles on about many things, but Diana ignores him. She is more interested in the painting on the vase in the corner. She watches Anne and Cole chattering, her sister dancing with Royal Gardiner, and Josie humouring Ruby and Moody by interrupting their conversation. Fred Wright is all wrong: his pronunciation never has a bit of Acadian tinge; his fingers are too short and pudgy; he is always serious, even when he makes jokes. 

Fred mutters, "I think September or October is a better month for a wedding, but your birthday is in July. We should not hesitate to marry before you are absconded by men like Walter Mills."

Diana blinks slowly, on her tongue is a brash question of whether 'abscond' is a word he has recently heard, but there are more priorities to handle. She halts in the middle of the dance floor. 

Minnie May stumbles into her. "Sorry, Diana," the girl laughs.

Diana nods dismissively and takes off to find the man responsible for her current quandary.

"Diana?" Fred calls after her.

Her search for Father is at first unfruitful. The house's largeness brings naught but confusion as she slips through room after room. She finally finds her father in the parlour, laughing with Fred Wright's parents and their friends.

"Diana!" he greets. "Mr. Wright is just telling me what a delight you are." Praises from the Wrights are routine for Diana, though they make her feel like she is being rewarded for just being conventional.

"I need to speak with you," she manages, nearly exhausted from her search.

They excuse themselves to a corner with modest privacy.

"Fred Wright is planning a summer wedding," she whispers.

"Yes, after graduation," Father adds. "It was your one specification."

Diana scoffs. "Do you really think that all I aspire to is a mere teacher's license?"

"We simply cannot keep the Wrights waiting forever."

"I want higher education!" Diana clarifies with gritted teeth. "Do you not want more for me?"

"This  **is** more," Father insists. "You will be able to teach your children yourself."

Diana wants to scream. Father never listens.

"Your mother and I did not even like each other when we were first married," he continues. "But it was a good match. In time, we grew to love one another."

One question has been plaguing her mind for months. "Why did you send Jerry to Montreal?"

"I gave Jerry a chance at a better life," Father explains. "All he would have is a small cabin stuffed with the entirety of his large family."

"Better than a large house filled to the brim with affluence!" Keeping one's voice low while arguing is difficult.

"Diana, I have worked so hard—so  **hard** —that you will want for nothing!"

"Except for Jerry." Who she had given up quite easily. A promise of a higher degree is not even in her future. Diana feels lightheaded. Josie had warned the vodka would have an effect. 

She escapes her father's company to bump Aunt Jo, who is heading out—("Gone are the days when I could dance the night away, dear one.")—and hitches a ride in her buggy. Josie also happily joins.

"Will you be leaving Roy Gardiner behind?" Diana worries.

Josie shrugs. "He is having too much fun as it is; best I leave him be."

As soon as they arrive home, Josie jingles the bottle of vodka enticingly, and Diana does not need any more temptation. They settle on Diana's bed to share.

"Russians really know their liquor," Josie mumbles after a sip. "Straight from Chukotka!"

"Chakotay?" Diana says. The word is so foreign. "Is that a real place?"

Josie giggles. "Is the Russian Empire a real place? Diana Barry, are you drunk?"

Her words are very clear, thank you very much. "I know the Empire is a real place ..."

Josie continues to laugh.

Diana briefly imagines Roy Gardiner sneaking into Alaska, trying to find a boat to a place called Chakotay. "Josie, do you love him?"

Josie raises an eyebrow. "What? Who?"

"Royal Gardiner."

Josie laughs. "Men are all the same, Diana," she says. "Every now and then, you encounter one as stupid as Moody Spurgeon or Gilbert Blythe or…" She trails off.

"Jerry Baynard?" Diana supplies.

"And those are the ones you hang onto because we are women!" Josie is not making any sense. Is she drunk? "We are so much smarter than stupid men and yet we let them make all the choices for us."

"Does that mean we are stupider?"

"Well, you are a stupid drunk," Josie says in jest. More to herself, she adds, "Where is Anne when you need her?"

"I need to write!" Diana heads over to the writing desk to begin.

"Diana, you are not in writing class."

"You are right. I am Wright. Mrs. Wright." Diana is sure to wright— **write** —that down. "I wrote it! I wright it? Which wright is right?"

"Everything is right!"

"Jerry is so stupid; why does he not reply? REPLY TO MY LETTERS,  _ JERRY _ !"

"You have not even sent the letter."

Diana glances down at the table. "Oh! It is right here. I need to go to the post office."

"Do  **not** send that letter, Diana." Josie sounds like a battered schoolmarm. 

"I will not. I will burn it!"  **Jerry does not reply to letters anyways.** A sob hitches in Diana's throat. She is only able to hold it at bay for a second before she starts wailing.

"No no no no no. Why are you crying now?"

"I—made—the—wrong—choice," she manages to choke out.

"To burn the letter?"

"I should be... New York, not to some stupid wedding."

"Diana?" Someone else has entered.

Relief floods Josie's face. "Anne! Come get your Diana."

Anne comes into view. "Where are you hurt?" 

Diana pressed a hand to her heart.

"Your breast?"

"... just drunk... writing letters to Jerry." 

"Diana, are you alright?"

Everything goes dark. Diana wakes the next morning with a burning headache. Mere seconds later, Anne slips into the room with a mischievous look on her face and a clear glass in her hand. "Are you awake?"

"No …" Diana mutters, trying to bury her face into the pillow. Maybe if she falls back to sleep, the pain will go away.

"Drink this. Josie says it will make you feel better." Anne hands the glass over.

Diana squints. "What is it?"

"Water," Anne says.

As Diana drinks, Anne grabs a piece of paper off the writing desk and handles it over with a giggle. "Read this."

Diana groans. She is really not in the mood for such frivolity. Reluctantly, she peers down.

**December 14, 1901**

**Once I marry, I shall be Mrs. Diana Wright. "Are you Mrs. Wright?" "Yes, always." Ha. It is a funny joke.**

Surprisingly, the headache diminishes to a small thumbing, but does not clear away the letter's stupidity. "Anne, what is this inane rambling?" she asks.

Anne laughs. " **You** wrote it!"

This is the letter she planned to send to Jerry last night? Complete and total nonsense! Diana sinks back into the bed. She must be going insane. Why did she write this letter? Why did she write any of the others? And the most important question of all: "Anne? Do you know why Jerry has not replied to any of my letters?"

Anne bites her lip. Jerry is the proverbial elephant in the room. "He has not mentioned  **directly** ," she says, "but if I were some sort of mystic, I would infer he misses you a great deal and does not want to deal with the consequences of opening that metaphorical door of emotions."

"Does he even read my letters?" Diana asks.

"Again, he has not mentioned directly, but if I were to infer, then yes."

"Based on what?"

Anne shrugs. "Based on  **his** letters, of course." She scurries to the other side of the room and is back in a quick minute with two pieces of paper in her hand. "Read this one first."

**November 12, 1901**

**Anne,**

**I have found the best bakery in the entire city. They have all of my favorite beignets. They don't taste like Maman's but they remind me of home.**

**Jerry**

**Also, please tell her to stop writing.**

"That does not bode well for me," says Diana after reading. "He clearly wants nothing to do with me."

Anne wags a finger. "Now read the other."

**November 13, 1901**

**Anne,**

**Please disregard the last letter. Please.**

**Jerry**

Anne smirks knowingly. "Now, do you suppose he wants me to disregard the fact that he likes bay-nets? Bahg-nets?"

Diana laughs happily.  Anne's letter  is the closest thing she will get to a reply. "Ben-yay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't Josie Pye marry Moody in one adaptation?
> 
> "Chakotay" is a reference to the character from _Star Trek: Voyager_.
> 
> Full quote from _Little Women_ for the chapter title is:-  
>  **Meg's high-heeled slippers were very tight and hurt her, though she would not own it, and Jo's nineteen hairpins all seemed stuck straight into her head, which was not exactly comfortable, but, dear me, let us be elegant or die.**


	9. I shall be homesick for you, even in heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bienvenue à Montréal. Welcome to Montreal.

The bakery is a short walk from Jerry's apartment. The scent always takes him back to Maman's kitchen. He stops by first thing in the morning to grab breakfast. Myriam greets him with a smile. " _Jerry! My favourite customer_."

He smiles back. " _My favourite baker_."

Myriam runs the entire bakery, but the title of "baker" goes to her father. " _Beignet_?"

" _Certainly._ " 

She quickly packs up a small bag. " _I added a little extra_ ," she says with a wink.

Jerry winks back and pays.

He heads down Saint Sulpice Street until he arrives at Saint-Sulpice Seminary, where the clock reads 6:55 in Roman numerals, which took him a while to get used to. Next door is his favourite sight and time in all of Montreal: the Notre-Dame Basilica at dawn. The interior of the cathedral is decorated in a variety of blues so the stained glass windows in the two towers glow blue, which is a marvel at dawn. 

He hates everything about the city—the crowds, the dirt, the noises—but one Sunday, he walked down Saint Sulpice and heard the most beautiful organ music. He entered the cathedral. Everything had changed. The cathedral is slightly out of the way to school but worth every extra step. 

He sits on the stoop to bite into the beignet. Maman's taste better— **warmer** —somehow. He glances to the bottom to see what Myriam blessed him with: _pets de soeur_. His heart speeds up. He discards the rest of breakfast and heads to class early.

Professor Marlowe arrives soon after, a smile ready for his favourite student. In Jerry, he's found a similar thirst for education. He hands over the paper from the last math exam. " _Perfect score as always, Jerry_." French is not Marlowe's native tongue, but he sounds the most familiar. The other teachers and professors speak Quebecois French, which is quite distinct.

" _I have a treat for you_." Marlowe hands over another paper. " _Euler equations_." He mentioned these before.

" _And you use these to calculate—_ " Jerry's eyes stroll down the page, eager for knowledge. "— _air movement._ "

Marlowe nods. " _Oui. Dynamics. Human flight._ "

Jerry waves the idea off. " _Only birds can fly_."

Marlowe doesn't give up. " _Jerry, a gentleman by the name of Lilienthal was circulating the papers a few years ago. He could fly a distance of about 250 metres in a glider_."

" _Whoa!_ " Jerry says. " _Does he still fly? This Lilien guy?_ "

" _I believe he fell to his death._ "

Jerry's eyes widen in horror.

The professor laughs. " _In the collective human pursuit of knowledge, sacrifices must be made_!" More seriously, he says, " _Jerry, you will make a fine engineer. I can write a recommendation to start your university studies immediately. How would you like that?_ "

Jerry can't believe his fortune. That would shorten his education (and the debt to Barry) by a year. " _I—I—I'd love that, sir_. _Very much._ "

After class, he heads to work at the  _ Marche Bonsecours_, a market close to the port, to work. He does menial tasks. It is a basic job to earn some extra money. William Barry continues to fund his education, but Jerry has a specific reason to save money.

He stops by the post office on the way home. 

Madame Lefebvre, his next-door neighbor, sits on the front stoop. As soon as she sees him, she stands. Jerry never knows if she is waiting on him or any other walking buddy in particular. 

" _Good evening, Madame Lefebvre,_ " he says.

" _Is it_?" she says, laughing. She can get up the stairs on her own, but she prefers to lean on him.

Jerry smiles. " _I believe so_.  _ How was your day?_"

" _Les Charles argued so loudly last night I couldn't get any sleep. Arnaud found the company of some nasty people and Madame Charles has had it. She wants to kick him out!_ " Madame Lefebvre has no family, so she prefers to gossip about neighbors. She relays information about people that Jerry doesn't even know, and he humours her with conversation, until finally she says, " _I stopped by the bakery today. Myriam says you came by to see her_."

Jerry spent only five minutes with her. What could Myriam possibly have to talk about? " _I bought breakfast_ ," he explains.

" _Spring is a good time to start a new love,_ " she says, unsubtle. 

He drops her off and says good night. If he starts now, he might be able to get an hour of homework done before he falls asleep.

His apartment contains one room. A large map pinned on a wall reminds of how far he's travelled. 

Quite a bit of mail has arrived for him. Anne sent a letter.  _ Laval  _ sent his grades. A blue envelope sits in the pile. He immediately discards it into a box in the room filled with other letters. The last post has his name and address scribbled so badly the post office must have worked a miracle to deliver it.

He opens it without checking the sender and gasps. It is a Christmas card. Given that it is mid-January, perhaps the post office isn't so miraculous. He opens it to read, "Merry Christmas, Jerry! We miss you." His younger siblings had each signed. "Joffroi. Isabelle. Iolanthe." He stares long and hard at the roughly drawn snow and the Cabin in the middle.

Jerry blinks back tears. He misses home. He misses saddling up to Froi to sing their favourite songs, waking up to Bon Bon's barks at dawn, and eating Maman's cooking. He misses Io's broken English, Jenny's insistent pushing, and, if he would allow himself to admit, Remy's stupid insults.

Further consideration stops any thoughts of catching the next train. Jacques is only 24 but his hands are blackened by the smithworks. Juneau works long hours at the butcher but doesn't make much at the end of the day. They'll never spend an hour discussing flight engineering principles with a teacher. Would they even be able to understand?

He remembers a conversation with Anne once when they were younger.  **What do** **you** **want to be?** She had ran through a list of words he didn't know, but now he realizes they were career paths. Choices like accountant and engineer weren't in his list of options when he was younger.

**_Growing up is growing out_**. For some reason the thought is in Papa's voice.

Anne's letter is informative: she has been accepted to U of T and is willing to spend some time in Montreal this summer on the way to school. Jerry writes back a letter in agreement.

While he is in a writing mood, he writes the first draft of the most important proposal he's ever written.

**January 21, 1902**

**Mr. Barry,**

**I hope you are doing well and that this letter can bring you some joy. I consider your charity as a loan. I include a proposal of payment, including compound interest for the years I am in school. The date of the first payment will be July 1907.**

**Thank you,**

**Jerry Baynard**

He needs to rework so that he sounds more official like the banker, Mr. Cousins.

The next morning, he wakes and begins his day as usual. He gets beignets from the bakery. He does not smile or wink at Myriam. He can do without her giving him _pets_ or whispering to others of their love story. He watches the sunrise at Notre-Dame and goes to school. He then heads to work. 

Halfway through the workday, as they are hauling materials, one of his coworkers says , " _It's a beautiful song. What are you humming?_ "

Jerry blinks and tries to remember. " _Just nonsense_!" He forces a laugh.

He stops by the post office to drop off his letter to Anne and a short thank you note to his sisters and brothers. 

January becomes spring and, to Madame Lefebvre's disappointment, Jerry doesn't start a new love. He does, however, qualify to officially begin his college education program in the fall. He picks engineering, to Marlowe's delight.

" _I look forward to seeing you quite often_!" says Marlowe.

Soon summer rolls along and Anne is in the city. Per her letters, "guests of your previous acquaintance" accompany her. Does he dare hope?  **No** , Jerry pushes away the thought before it takes hold in his mind and sets him up for disappointment. 

At the restaurant, Anne sits with Cole and—Jerry's breath hitches. For all the attempts not to think of her, not to read her letters, or not to mention her, the sight of her undoes everything. He crosses the room in seconds to pull her into his arms. Like walking into Myriam's bakery, the familiar scent brings him warmth and comfort. 

"Diana."

Jerry has so many questions— **Why are you here? When's the wedding?** —but he stays quiet as he pulls away to look at her face.

Diana is as radiant as ever. She stares wide-eyed, no hint of anything distinct in her face. Jerry doesn't know what to think of it as he sinks into a chair. 

Exchanging glances with Cole, Anne smiles. "Jerry, do you realize you have not said a single word to me since your arrival?" she asks.

"He remains enthralled by the sight of Diana," Cole agrees. 

Diana sends a knowing smile. Jerry can't help but smile back.

"As demonstrated," Cole narrates.

Jerry nods an apology. "How was the trip?"

"Quite wondrous, considering we were in Charlottetown just yesterday," says Anne. "Technology is such a marvel."

"And it keeps growing everyday," Cole says.

Jerry agrees. "One of my professors thinks commercial human flight will be available in our lifetimes."

Diana laughs. 

"That sounds impossible," Anne chuckles, "but marvelous."

"People said the same about the steam engine, I bet," Cole says. 

"Can you imagine actually flying, Diana, not metaphorically?" asks Anne.

"It's all math and engineering. Dynamics." Jerry is always eager to talk about what he learned. "Aerodynamics is governed by four principles. What holds you down? Weight. What picks you up? Lift. What pulls you back? Drag. What pushes you forward? Thrust."

His friends are exchanging looks of confusion. 

"This must be the feeling most people have when I go on one of my musings," Anne says to break the silence. "How thrilling to be on the other end! Jerry, you have given me a rare treat today."

"Shall we order actual treats then?" asks Cole. He waves the waitress over. 

Jerry chuckles. No wonder Marlowe is always excited to talk. Finding someone willing to listen must be a rare opportunity. 

After lunch, he shows them his favourite places in Montreal, which is actually just his daily walk. He doesn't care to navigate further around the city. Even his friends' statements about the government and the history of the city stun him.

"The city's name originates from a small mountain located close to the city center,  _ Mont Royal_," Anne carries on. "It became a major railroad hub upon the completion of the Great Victoria Bridge in 1859." She laughs. "We can thank the bridge for giving us an excuse to stop by on our way to Ontario."

"Somebody was up all night, reading the guidebook," Cole jokes in an aside. 

Diana walks beside Jerry, quiet and thoughtful, the entire tour. He wishes to hold her hand, but they haven't addressed the thoughtless display in the restaurant and she remains engaged to another.

Before long, night falls and he says goodbye at their hotel. His friends are to take the first train out to Toronto in the morning. He gives Cole a pat, Anne a quick hug, Diana—

She crushes her face into his chest and wraps her arms tightly about him. "I am going to miss you, Jerry," are her first words.

Jerry appreciates the hug for as long as possible. He never thought until now how many hugs he received back home. Touch is another reason for his endless longing. How many pats on the shoulder, bumps on the head, and punches to the stomach had he missed by leaving the Island?

He wants to grab her hand and take off into the night, but he already knows he has nothing to give her. He pulls away. "Enjoy Toronto," he tells the group, careful not to make eye contact with Diana. 

He doesn't get much sleep that night and ends up wandering to the cathedral before the bakery opens. The sight usually calls him, but tonight he can only focus on the bad: the stench of Montreal, the poorly lit streets, the chip in one of the glass windows. 

Just before dawn, a familiar figure comes to view.

Jerry leaps to his feet in a panic. "Diana! What are you doing here? The city's dangerous!"

"Do calm yourself. I dragged Cole out of bed." She points across the street where Cole leans against a wall, fighting sleep. She offers the hands Jerry has been wanting to hold.

Jerry lets out a sigh of relief, grasping her hands in his.

"When— **if** —I leave today, we may never see each other again," Diana says solemnly. "I do not know if you feel the same, but that fact disturbs me. The past year has been a miserable waste of emotions, and I don't want to feel like that ever again."

He shares the same thoughts but is afraid of saying them.

Diana looks at him with hopeful eyes. As if she is wandering about his head, she says the words he refuses to. " _Can I stay_?"

He isn't quite sure what or why she is asking, but he knows what the answer must be. "No."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the chapter doesn't just read like I went through a brochure of Montreal. o_O That's what I did.
> 
> "Sacrifices must be made!" is actually etched into Otto Lilienthal's (1848-1896) epitaph. He was the first person to make successful, repeatable flights in a glider.


End file.
